When Gracie and her husband returned from their honeymoon in the early 1930s, the newlyweds moved into a two-bedroom apartment. They slept in one room, and Gracie’s mother occupied the other. She lived with them until she passed away at the age of 85.

I am a Gen X’er. In my world, people get married, move into their own place, then retire, and often move again. As Gracie has explained to me, though, it’s only fairly recently that Americans have had the luxury of retirement and independent living.

When she was growing up, retirement homes didn’t exist. If you could no longer live on your own and had the financial resources, then maybe you would move into a nursing home. But not likely. Chances are — you’d move in with your children or any relatives that would take you.

In Gracie’s mother’s case, she was a widow. She received a small stipend from the government to care for Gracie. But once Gracie got married, that monthly income disappeared. Having no way of supporting herself, she became part of her daughter’s new household.

We have moved so far away from this mindset today, it’s hard to believe that we’re only talking about a gap of 70 years or so. Our expectations are out of control, in comparison. The fancy wedding, the house, the car, the entertainment system, the bulging 401K. Where do I begin?

Gracie’s wedding reception was held in her mother’s living room, her honeymoon was at the family cottage in western New Jersey, and she wore one maternity dress throughout her entire first pregnancy.

Every day across the country, people are losing the lovely 3,000-square-foot Colonials that were unheard of just 50 years ago. Our SUVs are being repossessed. And our retirement savings are dwindling quickly.

There’s a lot of talk, of course, about how Americans are having to “size down” their lives in order to adjust to the new norm. But the way I see it, we need an entirely new skill set.

It’s going to take more than just doing without a few extras. We have to lower our expectations — and that’s not such a bad thing.

But how do we even begin?

It might do us some good to take a cue from the remaining members of Gracie’s generation. They’re the ones who know what it means to live simply and earnestly. They did it for a long, long time. And from what I can tell, they were pretty happy folks.

“You can be bigger socially than you have ever been in your life. That’s sure. (But) you can’t grow socially unless you help others grow also.”

Wiliam H. Danforth, 1931

During those first few years of motherhood, my social circle grew immensely. I suddenly found myself reaching out and connecting with women like never before.

My formerly introverted self was now carrying around a pen and paper for chance phone number exchanges and then actually calling to set up “play dates” (for our then 3-month-olds.)

Those friendships that developed during the early days of motherhood are still incredibly precious and sustaining to me. But I recently realized – as my energies began zeroing in on my own rekindled career objectives – that my “rolodex,” so to speak, was comprised completely of women between the ages of 32 and 42 with two to three kids each and a husband.

It had never occurred to me that this was a problem. In fact, I would have gone merrily along my way had I not been forced by my business objectives to break out of my mold and meet new people. And wow! — I was shocked at how great it felt!

As I move throughout my days now, getting together with people from so many different walks of life, ages, and backgrounds … I feel a tremendous energy that I haven’t felt in years. It’s a kind of social energy, I guess. And I had no idea that it was missing in my life – until now.

I’ve joined a local networking group, as well as another association related to my line of work, and I’m getting ready to add one more women-in-business organization to my list.

Someone made a comment at one of these meetings recently that none of us would be there (at the meeting) unless we were solely motivated by the need or desire to grow our business. Well, I have news for that person.

I may be out to lunch on this one, but I like to think that we’re also there to help each other grow. I know that I am.

Nothing feels better than to help someone else achieve their goals, whether they’re professional or personal pursuits. It doesn’t matter. In the end, it’s really all personal, anyway. We’re all people – with hopes and passions and dreams.

What a great moment it is when we break out of our narrow mindset long enough to fully appreciate those heartfelt aspirations in another person. To me, that is the “social energy” that makes all things in life and business possible.

And when that can happen, the experience of being part of a business group or a social network or whatever you want to call it is so much more fulfilling than being holed up in your office or kitchen, for that matter, alone with your thoughts and ideas.

Gracie has had in her mind for weeks now that I should learn to crochet. Every time I see her, she asks, “Have you gotten your needle yet?” The answer is always, “Not yet!”

I honestly have had no interest in it. In fact, I really just hoped that she would eventually stop asking and leave me pleasantly in the dark as to how to make cute little trivets and baby-doll sweaters. I enjoy looking at other people’s creations in the craft tent at the county fair. But I’ve never once entertained the thought of making my own.

Well, she cornered me on Wednesday. Although Gracie is the most gentle, loving woman you may ever meet, she also has a feisty spark in her that I’ve seen come out from time to time.

Gracie is as determined as she is sweet. And she was not going to let me go home on Wednesday before I learned a thing or two about crocheting.

So we sat down together on her little couch, with the light over my left shoulder so as not to cast a shadow. And Gracie demonstrated remarkable patience as she walked me through four rows of crochet. At the end of every row, she would praise my progress and throw in a few extra pointers.

After the first ten minutes of pure frustration, I really started to get in the groove. And I loved it. I think that I could have sat there all night, shoulder to shoulder with Gracie on the couch, if my kids hadn’t been running in circles around her little apartment. It was so peaceful, just chatting and stitching, chatting and stitching.

I could envision our foremothers sitting around the fire in the evenings after dinner, sewing in the candlelight and sharing the latest town gossip. What a relaxing way to end the day.

My initial reluctance to learn to crochet was really just my lack of imagination. I could not envision just sitting around doing something so seemingly unproductive. Sure, I would be making something. But I could be doing so many other things — and even several tasks at once. To sit and be completely focused on a needle and yarn. Truly unthinkable.

But on my second row of crochet, I realized that this was what I – and so many other women I know – probably need most of all. A quiet, rhythmic task that is also a craft. You can talk and maybe listen to a television program, but you can’t do much else when you’re crocheting (or knitting or sewing). It is what it is.

We had to leave. The kids were climbing the walls. But I left there a woman with a changed mind. Maybe I’ll hit up the sewing store, after all, to get my own #1 needle.

Before I know it, I may be selling trivets at the local church fair. You just never know.

“Wealth, notoriety, place, and power are no measure of success whatsoever. The only true measure of success is the ratio between what we might have done and what we might have been on the one hand, and the thing we have made and the thing we have made of ourselves on the other.”

H.G. Wells (1866 – 1946)

This fall, I began the process of growing and expanding Fourfold Press – my writing and editorial services business.

In the beginning, I approached this new challenge with a tremendous amount of energy. I remember working on the final touches of my website until the wee hours of the morning.

But it didn’t take long before I began to experience brief bouts of doubt. I would find myself thinking about all of the possible roadblocks to my success instead of scheming ways around them.

It suddenly hit me one day that there always will be a limitless supply of commentary (whether it comes from our own minds or the mouths of others) as to why something might fail.

But who wants to hang around with Fear and Uncertainty all of the time? Those guys are great companions if you want to stay frozen in place for the rest of your days.

I decided that, for me, the greatest travesty would be to hole up in my comfort zone and never demand anything greater of myself.

We may not get it right the first time, but so what? At least we’re making headway. The business plan that I wrote in the fall, for example, is not the same business plan that I’m following today. It changed because I realized that I had chosen the wrong path (or just not the best one) to get to my destination.

We adapt. We choose a new direction. But we keep moving forward.

The most devastating loss would be to realize at the end of the day that we had talents and passions that we never tapped. For me, this thought is one of my greatest motivators.