E  S  S  A  Y   There’s this sense that millennials and baby boomers are at odds with each other, but I’m not sure how real that is. Are baby boomers really standing in the way of millennials? In the workplace we may be hanging on to our jobs but millennials seem to be doing quite well when it comes to taking the reins in management positions and it’s hard to ignore their growing dominance in the worker hierarchy.

When it comes to seeking shelter, however, millennials and boomers are competing for the same kind of housing for vastly different reasons. And the situation is exacerbated by the historically low housing inventory that is typical throughout the country right now. Until the residential construction industry ramps up the inventory of 2,000 square foot and under homes, millennials and baby boomers will be jousting for the same properties.

Millennials are looking for 1,800 square foot starter homes and baby boomers are looking for 1,950 square foot downsized homes, so essentially they want the same house. Millennials seek affordability while boomers want a more compact lifestyle. Millennials make up 42% of all homebuyers and the median age millennial (33 years old) makes up 56% of this country’s first-time homebuyers. They may dominate the market by their sheer numbers, but the baby boomer has the cash from the sale of their large home, so they can often bid up the price beyond the millennial’s budget.

Out of frustration with this imbalance, millennials are either deciding to rent or looking at larger, less affordable homes where they won’t be in competition with boomers. If they are thinking of starting a family, the larger home also eliminates the need to trade up after 5 years in the starter home.

If this competition for housing seems disturbing to anyone, particularly baby boomers, let’s not forget that millennials younger than the median age of 33 are still quite likely to still be living under their parents roof because they cannot yet afford even to rent their own place. When you look at it that way, some baby boomers are just as locked out of the smaller house market as their offspring. So who is house blocking who?

Jay Harrison is a graphic designer and writer whose work can be seen at DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle.

E  S  S  A  Y  Yesterday afternoon I was tired and crabby from work and feeling stressed and overwhelmed from too much to do. I had promised to cook dinner and bring it to a friend who just had a baby and to pick up some things at the store for her.

Cooking through the tiredness and overwhelm, not wanting to bring those energies to the food, I began to relax. Then, as I loaded the car with this beautiful meal I had made, I felt that amazing wave of GIVING. What a gift it is to give, how healing, how full of grace.

I got to sit and hold the baby and hear the birth story and bask in the glow of love of these new parents and their beautiful boy.

Coming home, there was an unusual pile of envelopes in my mailbox, including two bulky ones. Five checks and two donations of beautiful yarn for my raffle! I am making a crocheted quilt and raffling it off to my friends to support a spiritual journey I need to take.

This was the first wave of gifts for this project. So powerful, healing, amazing to open those envelopes, one after another, and feel all that love and support. The grace of RECEIVING. Wow.

I am realizing how in my life I have had trouble receiving because I don’t want to be indebted to anyone, feel dependent or a loss of power or autonomy. Now I see how completely untenable and full of hubris that attitude is. I am indebted in so many ways to countless beings for every single thing in my life—the clothes I wear, food I eat, books I read, friendship, house, abilities, teaching—the list goes on.

There is no way to get out of the chain of indebtedness, and no reason to want to. This is exchange, like breathing. You give out and you take in, constant flow.

Last night I was so excited by the first yarn donations and promises of more that I searched for a pattern that used many colors in a beautiful, artful way. The joy I felt at working on designing this beautiful blanket that I will give away was another form of giving and receiving at once.

Maxima Kahn helps big-hearted, creative people and dreamers get unstuck, unleash their innate creativity, follow their heart paths, and create lives of passion, purpose and deep play. More information can be found at www.BrilliantPlayground.com

E  S  S  A  Y   On my most recent visit from Seattle to Washington DC, I accompanied my two and five-year-old grandsons to the park adjacent to their preschool.

My older grandson was climbing on the jungle gym next to another little girl in his class. Out of the blue, she bellowed: “Is that old lady your grandma?”

I turned around looking for an old lady –

I envisioned my grandmother of yesteryear; silver hair tied in a bun, a kerchief around her neck with glasses falling off her nose. Her plump attire consisted of a housedress that zipped in front, stockings rolled up under her knees and black shoes with a chunky heel.

I didn’t see any resemblance of such a person.

Oh my, I thought. She means ME.

Impossible.

Sure, I am in my 60’s. But, I dress nicely, never colored my salt and pepper hair, wear make-up and earrings, and I’m fit. Or so I thought.

I was so shocked, I blurted out to my poor grandson, “Am I an old lady?” (Nothing like putting him on the spot.)

He responded, “No, you’re young.”

I don’t think my grandson was deliberately trying to spare my feelings. Maybe, a little. But, I truly think he doesn’t see me as an old lady. I climb that darn jungle gym with him, go down slides, pump high on the swings, get on the floor to play (although the getting up part is a little trickier than it used to be.)

Old lady, my foot.

I told my daughter-in-law about it. She politely told me this little girl is not known for her manners, and can be bratty.

Still stewing, I told my 40-year-old son as well. He said, “Mom, she’s five. To her, we’re old.”

Maybe.

Ellen Reichman, M.ED is a retired teacher and counselor. Her works can be found in local Seattle newspapers, CIRQUE (Vol. 7. No. 2) and CURE magazine.