A convergence

I’m about to experience a convergence in my own life.  

First, I am quickly approaching another birthday.

Second, I’m almost at the third anniversary of my retirement.

Third, the end of another year and the start of a new one is just around the corner.

While these events might not necessarily meet at the same time exactly, their close occurrence has me taking a step back to pause and reflect.  Taking a bit of time to absorb the life all around me, you could say.

This time around, however, has me looking back a bit further – more than I have before — at old times, memories, experiences. So many of which had a significant impact on my life, and on me.  This makes me melancholy some days, almost to the point of tears, but with a sweet undertone of gratitude for the experience, and especially for the people that made those memories with me.  

Even more lovely is sharing some of those times with loved ones.  Especially youngers.  We’ve had several days with grandkids and grown kids recently, which gave us lots of opportunities to share a few old memories and lessons.  Grandkids are so inquisitive these days.  It felt good to give old times new life, at least for a moment.

Recently, a friend and I were talking about how often we’re both thinking about past times, feeling them out for any new lesson or perspective they might hold for us.  Sort of an excavation of sorts.  Are there any new lessons to be explored? Any new insights that might apply in our lives now?  

Do you ever feel that urge to look back at different times and experiences and to see them from the perspective of who you are today?  It’s a good exercise in forgiveness – especially of yourself.  Funny how many of the mistakes of the past just dissolve when seen through older, more experienced eyes. And the events we thought of as life-altering, once-in-a-lifetime, never-getting-over-this are barely remembered. Or turned out to be the best thing that could’ve happened.  Hindsight and time are so wise.

This coming convergence of mine is really just a small collection of markers of time.  A birthday, an anniversary, and a shiny new year.  The passing of time and a time to begin again.

In honor of this so-called convergence, I’ll take a moment to reflect and enjoy special times once more, and then move on.  After all, the present is what matters most, and these events call for some celebrating. So, I’ll hold my memories close but my todays closer. 

Till next time,

Judy

I’m still here

. . . is a phrase that can have several different meanings or intentions.  In this context, I’m saying “I’m still here, my blog is still here, and both are in a reassessment mode.”  Add to that a few technical difficulties with the site along the way, and the worst case of bronchitis I’ve ever had, all conspired to keep me away a lot longer than I had planned.

But, I’m still here.

Two years into this not-working thing – oh hell, let me say it like it is – I’m retired.  (Just for the record though – I really don’t like that word. It has a “done” connotation that is so off-putting to me.)  Aaanyway, two years in and, with and without intention, I’m in a reassessment mode.  

There’s a settling in that happens with most big life changes, but that settling in takes time and is not without reverberations from one’s past life.  I remember my brother telling me that it took him two years to feel comfortable in his own skin again after he retired. In the beginning, leaving a long career for something new was euphoric. Everything seemed fresh and free and undiscovered.  It was a heady time. But a big life change like that is kind of like an earthquake. The initial jolt shakes your foundation, a little or a lot.  Even when the event is a good thing – like retiring – the change to your life, to your sense of self, is profound.  And then there are the aftershocks.  All the little things that crop up to question your decision, your new status, who you are or who you think you are. 

As I was telling a dear friend recently, over the last two years, I have done more “looking in the rearview mirror” than I ever have.  I think that’s to be expected though. Entering this phase of life is surprising, to be honest.  In a way, the looking back is almost like trying to find and confirm all the substance of your life up to this point.  My sweet friend put it this way, “Sometimes you have to look back in order to be more present and to keep looking forward.”  That makes sense to me.  

It just all goes So. Darn. Fast.  It’s shocking to find yourself here. We’re Boomers after all.  Perpetually young, right?  Well, not so much.  We’re not young anymore, but we’re still youthful, vibrant, curious, excited about life, growing, learning . . . in other words, we’re . . . not . . . done.  

Anyway, I now find myself flirting with a little reassessment. Looking under the hood, checking in with myself, my life.  I like to test myself with questions like “am I really happy? Or “am I just deluding myself?” “Am I satisfied with where I’m at?  Who am I now?” or “What am I missing?” “Shouldn’t I be doing something more important?”

I’ve given a few of these questions some thought, and here’s what I’ve come up with so far.

Am I really happy?  Yep, I am. No need to define it or offer proof points.  Just happy. The world has issues that make me crazy and frustrated, and some days I find myself “spinning” a bit, but none of that can take away what I feel deeply. Happy. And no, I’m not deluding myself.

Am I satisfied with where I’m at or who I am?  Well, I need to answer that question with another question.  Since when have I ever been completely satisfied with where I’m at or who I am?  Never . . . not completely anyway.  I’ve had great moments or times of satisfaction with the status quo, but in my heart of hearts, I’m a searcher. Always have been, always will be.  To me, life is continually in flux, allowing me a perpetual state of growth – or at least the opportunity for it.  There’s so much to discover about being a human in this life that, to me, the searching should really take up one’s entire life. That’s why “being satisfied” will never be something I aspire to . . . ever.  I guess you could say I’m satisfied with not being fully satisfied.

What’s missing?  Nothing and lots of things.  By things I don’t mean material anything, but more experiences, adventures, creative endeavors, thought development, more moments of flow.  And then again, nothing important is missing. My life is filled with love and gratitude. Enough said.

I guess these questions can apply to whatever life stage you’re in.  And don’t you think we can all use a little check-up or check-in once in a while?  Stuff changes and then we adapt.  No matter how subtle the change is, we alter our lives accordingly.  Even when there’s not been a big change, taking a look at your life allows you a moment to savor where you are, what you’ve accomplished, and to reassure yourself that the path in front of you is still the one you choose.

“I haven’t a clue how my story will end, but that’s all right.

When you set out on a journey and night covers the road,

That’s when you discover the stars.”

Nancy Willard

The saddest thing to me would be to walk through life without questioning, seeking, pulling back the layers. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “An unexamined life is not worth living.”  I’m with Ralphie.

You?

Till next time, and sooner than later,

Judy

Easy joy

I recently read about a 35-year old woman who had just passed away from cancer.  Before she died, she penned her own obituary.  One line in it stood out from all the rest. She wrote “Damn, it was good!”

That line hit me and stayed with me every day for a week.  At 35, she had to say goodbye to a life not even half-lived, yet one still overflowing with joy and love and adventure.  She wrote of her experiences in life with passion and exuberance. There was no pity party, only gratitude for how she had lived, what she’d done and seen and felt, and hope for others to fully embrace their lives.

Makes you stop and think, right?

Damn, life really is good. Even when things aren’t humming along, even when it feels less than wonderful . . . it’s still good.

Sometimes I can get a little down when I think about the state of our world.  The incessant harping and tweeting and complaining.  It wears on me.  Then I read something like that young woman’s message and I’m right back where I belong.  Living in gratitude and joy.

My favorite newspaper columnist recently wrote about “stringing small pleasures together to bring some semblance of joy to life.”  He’s gone through unbelievable losses in the last year, but his sense of humor and commitment to finding joy even in such difficult times has been inspiring.

Stringing small pleasures together.  I love that. Life offers us the opportunity for small pleasures every single day if we’re paying attention. And every season in nature brings new opportunities.  As do the seasons of life.  A couple of recent opportunities brought this home to me.

Easter morning, Michael and I went on a lovely hike.  What a beautiful morning it was.  The hills were covered in gorgeous yellow, purple and green, and as the song goes, “the hills were alive with the sound of . . . . sneezing?” No, that was my husband’s hay fever, but that’s another story.   Not counting the sneezing, starting the day with a morning hike amid nature’s spectacular display was a simple pleasure that filled us up.

And on Earth Day, I got to spend the day with my beloved niece and her two little girls.  Since it was Earth Day, we walked to lunch and picked up litter along the way.  It was so adorable watching these sweet little things being so serious about the task at hand.  What a small, but rich, pleasure.

It’s easy to let simple, unremarkable moments slip by unnoticed. But when I’m afforded a reminder like the young woman’s or columnist’s message, I’m happy to take it to heart and try a little harder to grab each small pleasure and hold it close.

Because, damn, life is good.

Till next time,

Judy

A gaggle of girls

Yes, even at this age, I think of myself and my friends as girls.  Girls of a certain age, that is.  In my life, having a gaggle of girls around me has always been my soft place to fall, my port in a storm, my chosen family.  View Post

Do I really need to reinvent myself?

Everywhere I look I see article headlines, books, speakers and various messages all extolling the virtues of reinventing yourself at this stage in life.  Sigh. View Post