Felton and I were friends in high school. Not real close. He was Black and I was white, and close friendship was a little dicey back then, in the late 50s, in Kansas City, Missouri — or so it seemed to me at the time. So we would see each other at school, and especially after school, at track practice.
NLP offers some remarkable ways to heal grief, to remove the obsessive sense of loss, while retaining, even amplifying the pleasant memories associated with the person or faculty that is gone (or is expected to be lost) and using these as resources for the path ahead.
“But that’s not even what I’m trying to get at,” Marlena continued, “— the possibilities do exist now, of remaining healthy and vigorous at really advanced ages. The whole point though, for me, is how do you look at your life?”
“I can’t believe I’m sixty.” My friend Marlena sits across from me over lunch, my treat, a few days after her somewhat raucous sixtieth birthday party, held in a local art gallery and featuring a DJ and enthusiastic dancing along with the usual delicious food and cake. “I’m not ready to be sixty,” she says in a plaintive voice, shaking her head. “I don’t feel sixty.”