Some career advice is easier said than done: do what you love and don't work for assholes.

Sounds easy enough, doesn't it? But figuring out how to make it happen is complicated. I've had jobs I really liked, with bosses I hated, and vice versa. I've also stayed in jobs longer than I should have. Money talks and some jobs simply pay well enough to make you listen.

Of course, the older you get the more you don't want to work for just a paycheck. Now, I'm not suggesting that money isn't important. These days, many people feel lucky to have a job at all. But feeling passionate about work, contributing to the greater good and being appreciated for what you do is a winning combination. It takes work and some risk to make it happen, but it's worth the effort.

I've tried to convey that message to my children and other young adults, because I think it's important to have the end goal in sight as you move through the trial and error of balancing work and the rest of your life.

My mom has been a good role model. She changed careers in her early fifties, from a high school English teacher to a psychotherapist, in an era when most women were not working outside the home. At 83, she still has a thriving professional life. She could retire, but she loves her work more than she loves any notion of leisure.

As a social worker, I took on many roles over the years. I worked in hospitals, home care agencies, schools and businesses. Like many boomers, I juggled work with raising kids and helping to care for my dad who has dementia. There were times when I felt totally overwhelmed and wanted to get off the treadmill. Sometimes I felt like a jack of all trades and a master of none. When I finally decided that I was going to make choices based on what I loved doing (like designing programs that help family caregivers) and what I didn't like doing (spreadsheets and budgets), the choices seemed more clear.

I am fortunate. I work in a growing, dynamic company where I can pursue my passion and have a positive impact on people's lives. I work with great people. But through my line of work I also come in contact with many folks who feel stuck. I hear their stories and see that their spirits are depleted. I work to help them solve problems related to senior relatives who need assistance but I also wish I could help them get out of their job ruts. Yet how do you get un-stuck when you have mouths to feed and a mortgage to pay?

What is the cost of following your bliss at midlife?

Read the rest of this post from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, at her blog http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/work-should-not-be-a-four_b_1959406.html

For many families, coming home for the holidays can be a wake-up call for the changing health of aging parents.

My friend Noreen left home for college 30 years ago, eventually settling down a couple of hours away from her aging parents. Among her three siblings, Noreen lived the closest to her folks and was the most worried. Her brother, Tom lived on the west coast and typically chalked up Mom's forgetfulness and Dad's driving mishaps as part of getting older. Pam, the youngest, had her hands full with a rebellious teenager and a recent divorce. She had no room on her plate to worry about Mom and Dad.

So, as Noreen drove -- or crawled -- along the highway last Thanksgiving, she wistfully remembered Norman Rockwell-like Thanksgivings past with Mom's famous pecan chocolate chip pie, Dad's careful carving of the turkey and the children's delight at watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

Arriving at her parents' home, Noreen couldn't help but stare at the peeling paint and the unkempt lawn. Years ago, she suggested her folks sell the house and find a place to live that was more senior-friendly. Noreen's parents quickly dismissed the idea as did her siblings. Now, she opened the front door and got a whiff of burned turkey. Noreen's mother was apologetic. She had gotten distracted by the excitement of the holiday. Tom and Pam were busy ordering take out Chinese food and seemed un-phased by the Thanksgiving turkey that had already been tossed. Mom had always been a consummate cook. Now, no one seemed to care that she ruined the holiday meal centerpiece. Noreen also worried about her Dad, who seemed unsteady and frail. She asked how he was feeling and he replied "under the weather," but hadn't seen the doctor in months. As the day progressed, Noreen grew increasingly more concerned. She saw a stack of bills on the kitchen counter, some of them dating back months. She observed Mom forgetting simple things and getting frazzled easily. While Noreen did not want to worry excessively or make a scene, things seemed out of sorts and she could no longer pretend otherwise.

Holidays are a time when emotions get stirred up. Like Thanksgiving cranberry sauce and stuffing, our emotions are a mixture of ingredients: excitement, joy, sadness and stress can all be part of the family recipe. Many adult children, like Noreen, must face a changing reality and confront their own anxiety and grief as their parents lose their strength and independence. These changes are often more prominent around holiday time, particularly for adult children who live at a distance. It is easy to overreact when we see, as Noreen did, bills piling up or a home not properly cared for. At the same time, it is important to differentiate changes in behavior. A new-found tendency to let the house go a bit can be part of normal aging, or it can represent illness and decline. When I later met Noreen for coffee, she told me she worried that the burnt turkey was an ominous sign. I assured her that one burnt turkey does not foreshadow disaster, but a pattern of uncharacteristic behaviors, is more of a concern.

Holidays can be incredibly stressful. In the midst of all the activity and eating, they can also provide an opportunity to observe our parents as they age.

So this season, here is what to look for to determine if your worries are justified and whether there are real concerns about your parent's well-being and safety that need to be addressed:

*Noreen is a composite of friends and family caregivers

To read the rest of LICSW Jody Gastfriend's list, check out her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/family-holidays_b_2003578.html

 

 

The other night my husband David and I had dinner with friends who just happen to be Republicans. I asked David politely if we could have an "Obama-free evening." In other words, don't try and convince our friends that Obama is the better candidate."Stay away from politics" I implored.

Unfortunately, all roads lead to the economy and soon I found myself kicking my husband under the table. Ultimately there were two divergent opinions about the presidential race, but I didn't want to taint the evening with unnecessary conflict. I wondered later why it felt so uncomfortable. Why couldn't we agree to disagree? Why was I so worried about alienating our friends because our politics didn't align? Have we lost the ability to be calm and civil in the face of our differences?

According to a recent Pew Research Center study, national campaigns have been negative, but media coverage of campaigns has been even more negative. And where has the coverage been most biting and disrespectful? Social media. The modern town squares of Twitter, Facebook and the like -- where official and unofficial pundits can pontificate with impunity -- has brought some of the ugliest posts and exchanges. And of course, in the land of micro-blogs, any good quip will draw a chorus of hosannas.

I appreciate the ego-rush of attracting an adoring, albeit virtual and largely anonymous, crowd on social media as well as anyone. But preaching to the choir seems to be all anyone wants to do these days. We surround ourselves with like-minded people, both online and off, and insist that everyone else just "doesn't get it." We feed off one another's comments and pat ourselves on the back for being so insightful.

I've seen this intellectual incest in action. I'm a Democrat and so are many of my friends and many of their friends. I'm guilty of enjoying the comfortable glow that comes with engaging a simpatico crowd. However, I value my friends who are Republicans and Independents, who range in age from 30 to 70. Their lives are filled with different experiences, they have different perspectives and they have different needs from their elected officials.

I like these folks, and even if I don't agree with them, I have to at least respect their views. The alternative is to avoid conversing with them about anything of importance. In other words, complain about negative political ads, but never discuss the content. I like to think of myself as open-minded, although I -- as do most people -- have some positions that are non-negotiable. Still, I think we can all go a long way toward raising the bar on public discourse.

At the risk of sounding like a middle-aged mom (which I am) let me offer a few suggestions:

    •Be aware of the language you use. When discussing issues and people,don't brand them as  un-American, cowardly, evil, corrupt, racist or stupid.

    •Practice listening. You may not agree with another person's viewpoint, but you should be willing to hear why he or she holds those views. It's not your job to change anyone's mind.

For more tips from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read more of her blog on Huffington Post

 

With all the intense hoopla surrounding the simmering eroticism of E.L. James' Fifty Shades of Grey, I have to wonder why are women attracted to the book? In my own book club, readers admitted to being captivated by the story that delves into the harder edges of a consensual relationship.

So is it the eroticism or the relationship that is pulling us in? I found myself skipping through some of the sex scenes to get to the relationship parts. From my perspective, the quippy email barbs between Christian Grey and Ana Steele -- not the S&M -- were the best part of the book. Maybe I am old school, but what really draws me to a story is the simmering allure of romance, like the kind you find in Sense and Sensibility and The Sound of Music. No non-disclosure agreements pertaining to sexual encounters required.

So what is everyone else so titillated about? Do women need more thrills in their lives? Are we looking for a fantasy escape from grown up responsibilities? The obligations we shoulder may provide us with home, family and career, but are we missing the excitement and forbidden pleasures that come from being less well-behaved?

With so many marriages ending in dissolution and divorce -- and so many women drawn to so-called "mommy porn" -- I think we should all consider what keeps the spark alive.

As I look at my husband of 28 years, I still feel the spark I felt when I first laid eyes on him. Yes, he is graying, as am I. The chondroitin sulfate he buys en masse at Costco doesn't always diminish the aches and pains in my joints. And the realities of aging often lead to unexpected results. When asked what I wanted for a birthday present last year I requested a colonoscopy (his -- not mine). Yet we continue to enjoy a shared journey that binds us.

And yes, there have been many conflicts and stresses over the years. Money, children, household tasks, aging parents and blackberries at the dinner table have been topics of a few shouting matches and sleepless nights. We don't need manufactured tension or pain in our lives... it's there. But there also have been many ways we keep the fires burning.

 

To read the rest of this post by Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/marriage-advice_b_1762105.html

 

 

 

Belly dancing might look like graceful dancing, but when I held a class at my house for ten women, ranging in age from 54 to 64, this age-old dance lightened our moods and deepened our connections as we tried to get our aging bodies to move in unfamiliar ways.

Our teacher for the night, who sold the class to me as a fundraiser for an arts organization, was herself just shy of 60 and has been belly dancing for over 20 years.

I looked around the room at my community of friends, each straining to make circular motions with their less-than-flexible hips while trying to keep their heads perfectly still, and tried (unsuccessfully) to stifle a giggle. Many of the women in the class were friends I have known for years, and watching them jiggling their tushes seemed like some wonderful caricature of primal scream therapy. They were letting it all hang out and feeling better for it.

While working on my own gyrations, I recalled a conference I attended about arts-based therapy programs. Apparently the combination of music, movement, new learning and community can help diminish the risk of dementia and ease symptoms of Parkinson's disease. I didn't need a double-blind study to convince me. My father, who has suffered from dementia for many years, can still sing Hava Nagila and dance a lively hora in his wheelchair. Music and movement keep him engaged.

Many of the women at my belly dancing class, all dutifully pushing their boobs out as our teacher instructed, were friends I had known for years. I knew their secrets. I smiled as Lisa waived her scarf in undulating circles and tried to sway her hips in a sultry rotation. For the past year, Lisa has been battling breast cancer while simultaneously managing the care of her disabled spouse. Despite the significant stress in her life, Lisa has an energy and joie de vivre that is infectious. I have known Carol, a former dancer, since our kids were babies. Just last year, Carol's son was diagnosed with a chronic illness.

 

To read the rest of this post by Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, check out her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/belly-dancing_b_1625765.html

With autumn's impending arrival, I have found the autumn leaves of my memory undoubtedly swirling in anxious little circles. What I mostly recall -- frantically preparing for back to school with three kids -- is the schpilkes (Yiddish for nervous energy). What are the kids' schedules? What supplies do they need? Does anybody have any clothes that still fit? What do you mean you won't be caught dead in those jeans? I just bought those! All the while fearing that one small thing -- a clogged toilet, a flat tire, a stomach bug -- could throw a monkey wrench into the carefully orchestrated schedule of carpools, after school activities and homework (not to mention a full time job).

Let's be clear: I made plenty of less-than-perfect decisions during the years when my children were in grade school, middle school and high school. I often said "no" to writing one more check or driving to one more activity. I'm sure my kids entertained thoughts -- not often, but from time to time -- that I was out to ruin their lives. But they survived. As did I. In all those autumns past, I did not groom them to become the people they are, nor could I have. And the occasional wrong color notebook or forgotten permission slip didn't change a thing.

Now that my kids are "adults" I am struck at how different Fall feels. Fall comes to my home state in a burst of golden light, with leaves fluttering like crimson and russet confetti in the barely-cool breeze. People from around the U.S. schedule autumn vacations just to admire our woodland hills and fertile fields, crowding into roadside inns and festival grounds in the weeks before the stark stillness of winter descends. And I, in turn, am more contemplative, less reactive, happy to see my kids thriving and wistful that it all went by so fast.

As my youngest returned to college this week, she took with her garbage bags full of clothes along with instruments, hair supplies, books, and other stuff -- all of which sat in my foyer as a monument to her physical and emotional presence. Now the house is neater, less cluttered and far quieter. I don't have to fret about the inevitable migraine I would get while trolling the aisles at Staples looking for a graphing calculator. Nor am I stressing over the daunting complexity of car pooling three kids to different schools and activities.

Instead, I feel more peaceful, happy to see my children thriving but wistful that they have truly flown the coop and are not my little chickadees any more. As a mother, I have more perspective having long ago relinquished the goal of trying to do everything right. In the process I learned to let things go and cherish what I have.

Now, watching the young mothers flailing about in the school supplies aisle at Target, I just want to pull them aside.

 

To read more of this post from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/back-to-school-advice_b_1840953.html

Beach reads are the epitome of a summertime escape. Getting lost in the pages of a book that transports you to a different time and a new place, allows you to escape with each turn of the page. Do the bickering squabbles of bored kids or the pressures of work have to invade your mind when your summertime characters are having such fun?

That said, I'm not much for iconic summer books. Oh, I'm no literary snob and I can appreciate a good trashy read as well as the next woman, (although I seem to be among a small minority of middle age women who could not get beyond the first book of Fifty Shades of Grey). But as a social worker and elder care expert, I've seen more than my share of predictable drama. A plot line that involves family members feuding and misplaced priorities just doesn't do it for me. I find myself trying to solve their problems. To really escape, I need something that requires concentrated attention, and for a book to keep me mesmerized, it either has to teach me something about myself, or it has to drop me into a lifescape that is at once noble and emotionally compelling.

With those requirements in mind, I've got my stack of five summer escape-ready reads on the table by my lounge chair. In no particular order, they are:

• Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake by Anna Quindlen. In her latest memoir, the former New York Times columnist, novelist and essayist captures the real life joys, angst, conflicts, compromises, and inner thoughts of fifty-plus women. Ms. Quindlen has been the voice of a generation of women -- my generation -- and she has aged with us beautifully. She's sharp-witted and honest, but at the same time he approaches life with gratitude and joy.

To read more of this post by Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/beach-read-suggestions_b_1672507.html

With Father's Day approaching, and with it all the stereotypes of dad as a larger-than-life hero, I'd like to say that heroes come in all shapes and sizes, and in all temperaments. As a social worker and elder care specialist, I've seen more than my share of heroic dads struggling just to make things right for the people they love.

As a child, my own father always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to our safety and welfare. When I was 6, I fell off my bike and broke my arm. Dad felt that something was wrong. He found me several blocks from the house and took me to the hospital. He took care of me and my brother and sister when we were sick. He loved soothing our aches and sniffles with his never-the-same-twice homemade soup, made by throwing just about any leftovers into the pot.

Although my father is an educated man with a PhD in psychology, he always had a child-like sense of fun and mischievousness. He loved amusement park rides, especially go carts and bumper cars. Once he even got kicked off the go cart track for bumping into his kids!

Through his instincts and exploits, my father taught me how to care for people, how to take chances and how to enjoy every minute on this earth.

Dad is 86 now and he's had dementia for more than 10 years. He's been living in a nursing home for the past five years. During that time, he has continued to teach me about life. Dad's ability to express love and contentment, despite his limitations, is a testament to his connection to family. Certainly, it's a tribute to my mother, whose daily and engaging visits have been life sustaining. But I know that somewhere inside, he still has that sixth sense about my well-being and happiness. He shows it through his sense of humor and the mischievous twinkle in his eye. On a given day, he may not remember my name, but he knows we're connected.

My father also displays an impressive level of equanimity and contentment about life, despite his dementia.

To read the rest of this post by Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, check out her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/fathers-day_b_1596872.html

My friend Jane is trapped with a so-called boomerang kid. We all know someone like Jane, whose beloved offspring made failed attempts at leaving the nest and finally decided that home is where it is at. So there they stay, parking their grown-up bodies and independent personalities into the same bed they slept in as 10 year olds.

According to the Pew Research Center, more than half of today's 18 to 24-year-olds moved back to their parents' homes within the past few years. Other surveys say 85-percent of college students expect to move back home for a while after graduation and are facing a bleak job market. Meanwhile, their parents -- many of whom have begun to shift their attentions to the physical and financial needs of elderly relatives -- are at a loss. As Jane says, "What am I going to do? Tell him to go live in his car...that I insure, by the way?"

Jane truly loves her adult son. She loves him so much that she worked a full-time accounting job plus took in freelance clients to ensure that he could finish college without huge student loans. She loves him so much that she supported his right to "follow his passion" when he switched his major from engineering to humanities in his junior year. And yes, Jane loves her son so much that when he got his B.A. with no job prospects in sight, and no plans to go to graduate school, she welcomed him back home with open arms.

But that was almost a year ago. Her pride-and-joy now eschews "menial" jobs like flipping burgers, but has no problem complaining about the economy while he takes advantage of Jane's "bottomless" refrigerator. He also enjoys her cable TV and Internet, laundry facilities, utilities, health benefits and cell phone family plan ... just as he did in high school.

I have great sympathy for Jane and all the other boomerang parents. According to a recent NPR report, my hometown of Newton, MA has a high percentage of "generation jobless" graduates who return home. And since I'm an eldercare professional, I also see many members of the sandwich generation try to cope with three generations of adults living under the same roof. (Sometimes I even see four generations in the house, which in pop demographic-speak is a "club sandwich.")

When Jane and I graduated from college, we would never have dreamed of moving back home. We treasured our hard-won freedoms. We signed on a slew of roommates, lived in a modest (read: rundown) flat, ate noodles and put up with the occasional cockroach or rodent infestation. We did what we had to do to maintain our independence. Then again, our tech needs were pretty much limited to a hard-wired telephone, a stereo and if lucky, a TV that worked. Our children consider the lack of cable TV, a laptop, high-speed Internet access and a smartphone with an unlimited data plan to be unbearably primitive. And as they quickly discover, those things cost money.

As for my friend Jane, she's come up with a temporary, but effective, solution to her problem.

To read more of this post by Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, check out her blog at

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/boomerangers-returning-to_b_1578537.html

I have good news. I've been asked by The Huffington Post to blog for their Post/50 section. It's an opportunity I could not pass up. However, it left me feeling overextended. Right now, as Care.com grows and senior care becomes even more of a need for baby boomers and their parents, I can't write two different blogs.

I had to say "no" to one. Which leads me to my first blog post for Huff Po, "The Age of Decline: Saying Yes to No". It's my belief that as we reach 50 and beyond we need to force ourselves to say "no" even more often.

As a social worker, I often coach family caregivers, most of them women, who quietly fume at the difficulties of trying to be a good daughter, sometimes in the face of a very obstinate parent... Read more on my new blog.

I'll continue to update this as often as I can..Thank you for understanding. I hope you will still comment and share with your friends experiencing Sandwich Generation issues and senior care concerns.