Helga’s Heartlines: A Journal

Sunday, January 4, 1998.

Toronto, Ontario


My close friend, Christine, called today and met me for morning coffee and conversation at the neighborhood Chapters bookstore. Great concept, that one. A home away from home. Since its' inception we've had some of our best discussions there. To be able to linger in leisure in the midst of fine literature, in an atmosphere less rarefied than the local library - It's one of my favorite places to be, aside from my personal habitat or the great outdoors. It took a long time for some astute entrepreneur to identify the need and cultivate the market; I hope it lasts and plenty of patrons buy the books, or at least order lots of Starbuck's cappuccino and cafe latte. Okay by me if the partnership manages to make millions.

Christine is lovely, and to her credit, a very smart lady. The outside reflects the inside, where true beauty comes from. We've known each other since we were teenagers - Seems only yesterday yet it's been several decades. Today we got into discussing our 'Life and Times' - one Baby Boomer to another. Here are some reflections on that dialogue - As you'll see, I have as many questions as answers....

Would I be going out on a limb to suggest it's not too late for my peers and I to do something of consequence with our lives? Do you wonder what I mean? You say you're still pretty busy making your contribution to society. Well, I mean in the idealistic sense. When I think of the promise of our generation, I wonder, was it a momentary brilliant flash? Like a meteorite - short-lived, already spent in its' youth. Or, is the best yet to come...? Is it enough merely to have been flower children? Was it all about Sex n' Drugs n' Rock n' Roll? - or - Tune in, Turn on, and Drop out? That seems to be what we achieved, what we're known for - thanks to those 'acidheads' that used the new found freedom of the period as license to let loose and simply run amuck.

It seems to me that the best, the most refreshing, liberating, and idealistic aspects of that youthful revolution took a wrong turn somewhere. A generation that truly has been blessed, if one looks backward through history, and forward, thus far, have we given back in kind? We were going to make the world a better place, remember...? Notions such as universal brotherhood, eradicating poverty and hunger worldwide, saving the environment and endangered species - Were they just a pipe dream?

I'm not being completely fair here, Christine reminded me. We supported the Peace Corps, right from the beginning. There was the Civil Rights Movement. Women's Liberation. We made society pay attention to us - Celebration of youth has become the vogue. And here we are, currently pushing back the boundaries on middle age. I've no doubt we'll go on to be the world's oldest teenagers. I wonder, too, has there been a greater demonstration of Individualism in any period? The Global Village has become a reality - It's no longer far out to believe in Collective Consciousness. Still big kids at heart, our generation has made Entertainment a staple of every day life, around the World, and produced a slew of great Entertainers. Could we have done more? Possibly....

Of course we could - I have a stubborn streak. My man, Jack, says in jest, it's the German in me. Okay - So there's Steven Spielberg. Gloria Steinham. Bill Gates. And....? Who else? Who else has made an impact on this consciousness, helped to define our Age. Tried to do something really important? Bill Clinton? Like many, I had high hopes when he was elected.... He's a good leader on the World stage, Internationally speaking. That was supposed to be his weak point. Overall, a disappointment, his Presidency - for him and for us. Ironically, I know he has the dream to be a great President, to make a solid contribution to the betterment of all Americans. He has our characteristic idealism and energy - and our flaws. Yes, the sex thing. One scandal after another. But, then, it's been a lot of fun and trouble for most of us, hasn't it? Let those who are blameless cast stones.

Thanks to Christine, I reconsidered what was happening back then. An exciting, exhilarating time soon turned into one of violence, upheaval and trauma. There were those terrible assassinations - John Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King - The Kent State Shootings - The Vietnam War - to derail us. Idealism and dreams turned to disillusionment. We sold out. I guess I can't blame us. We became more Establishment than the Establishment. Perhaps deep down, we feel ashamed and guilty at how things turned out, how some of our own committed horrible acts...a la Richard Speck, Charles Manson. I think of all those obscure terrorists, anarchists - the SLA - who the H___ were they, anyway?

Christine claims we grew up. I say there still is, and must always be, room for ideals. She told me I'm a humanitarian, a philosopher, a dreamer.... She detects a born rebel inside, a true revolutionary - one, of the quieter, 'pen is mightier than the sword' kind. I hardly think so. But, I agree, that 'in your face' stuff is best left to the young and reckless.

If it's any consolation, she reminded me, only some 20 percent got into trouble with drugs or the law or alternate life styles and ruined it for the rest of us. Gave us a bad name. That's what happens. Revolutions have a way of going wrong. Things get out of hand when Group mentality takes over. I seem to have to go my own way...but nothing is accomplished alone. Who ever heard of a Revolution of One? It takes the Group to make things happen, as we demonstrated in protest rallies, peace marches - there's strength in numbers. Still, the Group is hopeless without good leadership. It always comes back to the Individual, like a Martin Luther King....

Okay....Both are necessary. With both, everything is possible. Freedom does not necessarily mean anarchy. I think of that great example, the American Revolution, with its' hero, George Washington, its' intellectual giant, Thomas Jefferson. No shame, there. Not compared to the French - off with everybody's heads, blood running in the streets - or the Russians - murder by the millions.

It's interesting, about the 20-odd percent...I realize, now, that I wasn't aware of it, at the time. I thought it was everybody. I felt like a fish out of water, in some ways, by the late Sixties and early Seventies - like I was born at the wrong time, or something. There was a lot going on back then that I didn't relate to. I had absorbed enough of the old values, I suppose, in spite of myself. I was brought up on Walt Disney, and, you know, I've never gotten over him. Who says kids aren't impressionable, aren't affected by what they watch? My role models were and still are those two wonderful, totally different Hepburn heroines - Audrey and Katherine - not Janis Joplin or Tina Turner - dynamic as they are. It's so ironic - at the time I didn't completely identify with my generation; now, I do, very much. I feel for us. And yet, on the face of it, there's nothing to feel sad about. We have it made.

Many aspects of the Sixties Revolution were great. There's really been nothing like it, since - until now - the threshold of a new Millenium. There was a special feeling, the sense you were a part of something important that was happening. Compare the original Woodstock to any concert since - I mean, can you? I remember, my first trip to Toronto with some high school friends to see Bob Dylan live and up close - I was transported - The music, the words, the mood connected with me, with us. I mean, it was real. Hey, I'm right back into the jargon, like they say about riding a bicycle.

Getting back to our contribution, could we, or, should we, do more? Is there any mileage left in us to accomplish important things for humanity, or is it Generation X's turn, or the next's? Are we ready to be put out to pasture?

I loved Christine's reaction: " Well, Helga, I wouldn't put it quite like that." I recall she fluffed her hair with her fingers, automatically self-conscious. "Not everyone peaks in youth. Hopefully, we'll still see great things to come from some among us - "

Bless her. A reminder why she's dear to me. Just what I needed to hear....

"Speaking for myself, I think I'm already doing enough, thank you very much." She dramatically wiped her hands with her napkin, and finished with a flourish.

She's absolutely right, of course. Something nags at me. Maybe, it's my own sense of unfinished business.... Deep down, I feel there ought to be something more satisfying and more meaningful than just making a living. I am not a careerist. I work in the business world, and have for thirty years, of necessity, but my identity isn't caught up in it. I work to live, not visa-versa. In the end, 'Having It All', probably the defining goal and sometime heroic achievement of my female contemporary - what better example than Christine, herself - has not been part of my agenda. The Herculean effort that would have required, honestly, is too awful to contemplate. All the more reason why I have tremendous respect for women, like her, who attempt, never mind succeed, to juggle their professional and family commitments...I ought to lighten up, on them, at least.

Indeed, she's earned a break. Maybe this is rather the time to let go, slow down, recapture some of what's been lost, the spirit of adventure and freedom and possibility that we had then. Wander, dream, meditate, 'stop and smell the roses', 'make love, not war'...Remember? While we still have energy and time. She acknowledged, then hesitated. Not just yet. She's got her own unfinished business. It's the Business. Her own business. A few more years...she'll see how it goes.... Now it's her turn to look dreamy-eyed. I keep forgetting; she's a later Boomer, and an ambitious one.

Me, I want to do both. Somehow, they go together - to accomplish something worthwhile, meaningful to me, while enjoying myself along the way. Preferably, it makes a difference to others' lives as well.... We'll see. In the meanwhile this dreamer dreams, and works, and somehow manages to find time to write.


~ Helga Marion Ross ~

Copyright 1998