SAVE THE WORLD? NAH....

My "resolution" for this year was to STOP.   

I decided to stop trying to be or do anything particularly noteworthy.  Stop hoping for anything that is not happening.  In fact, I've banished "hope" from my vocabulary and emotional life.  Instead of saying "I hope..." this or that, I try to remember to say instead, "It would be nice if..."  I can hope all I want; that's not gonna make anything end up differently than how it will.  Hope feels like a wished for outcome without any real control over its realization.  

But just because I've given up on the word "hope", that doesn't mean I don't care.  Yet, sometimes I feel a wee bit like a slacker when I choose not to engage in various activities, events, conversations, commitments.  But it's getting easier the more I check in with myself and honor the answer that is already there.  Mostly that answer is: "No; not now."

I've spent most of my adult life saying "yes" to a zillion commitments.  Not only those that come to me from "outside" -- being asked to serve on a committee or join a group/organization or host a holiday gathering or go to a party. But also those that have come from within -- creating and facilitating any number groups, activities, and events that didn't exist before I imagined them into being and made them happen.

I don't regret most of those years of non-stop organizing and facilitating and working for various causes (both internal and external), but I do wish I had a some of that time back -- especially the time that ended up being compulsively perfectionistic, unwelcome, or ultimately meaningless.  I wish I had been more aware during the times I was over-calendared, stressed out, exhausted, and couldn't say "no", allowing one thing to snowball into the next.  I wish I had  been more aware of the toll it was taking on my mental and physical health and probably on my relationships.  I wish I'd taken longer breaks between one thing ending and another beginning.  

I think that might be what I'm doing now.  Or maybe it will always be like this year has been going forward.  I've continued to address my own internal life, some relationship stuff with Hub, my family and friends, but with less urgency, less desperation, less "hope".  I'm finally seeing clearly how things are.  I don't have to like it.  I do have to decide if I can live with it.  So far I can.  And with that I am more content...or getting there anyway.

As for worldly concerns, I've taken an enormous step back.  I unsubscribed to most political and non-profit outreaches.  I reluctantly turn on the nightly news -- but now the 30 minute version on network TV, not 2 hours of cable outrage political commentary every night (OK, just Monday night for my one weekly hour with Rachel Maddow, who is brilliant, funny, not outrageous, and does not yell.)  I still read the newspaper and various periodicals, but not religiously.  And yet, I still do great on the New York Times Friday News Quiz! Yay, me!  I'm not ignoring the world.  But I avoid a lot of the vitriol.  

And I'm not raising my hand to volunteer for much of anything.  The whole idea of "getting involved" sort of feels like a sucker punch to my gut.  There is a sense of pre-commitment angst just thinking about it.  I think this is maybe a PTSD reaction or an indicator of burn-out.  I just can't seem to motivate myself to be the old me.

I watch others step into action and feel some guilt.  My local Indivisible group is incredibly politically active, working for issues and candidates I support.  I know it's held together by the hard, tireless work of a few strong, amazing women.  In a former life I would have been one of them.  Now I support them financially, write postcards to local voters, go to the occasional rally -- not nearly enough support for them.  But the thought of being more involved makes me feel a sense of dread.

I watch in my own home as Hub is immersed, as he's been for more than 5 years now, in work around educating and organizing groups to address the climate crisis.  I have resented his hours of devotion to various commitments around that issue over recent years.  It seems to consume him at times.  This year I realized this will not change.  It has been the same with other "causes" over the years, even when we both were over-committed.  I changed my priorities, but he didn't in that regard.  So I have to change my perspective.  I tell myself, "He works part time/half-time." His payment isn't monetary, but it is obviously rewarding for him to be engaged in this way or he wouldn't do it.  I think of it as his job now and the hours he spends in various in-person or Zoom meetings, at the computer, on the phone talking or texting, or with email, each happening at all hours of day/evening/weekends as the need arises, are how he does his work.  His commitment is commendable and his work important.  I'm glad it's not me.

So, how do I occupy my time?   

• I'm not planning, striving, hoping, working, engaged in conflict, or losing sleep.  I don't have a calendar that rules my life; nothing is there that can't be changed or cancelled for reasons large and small.  
• I am more home and garden focused, seeking to do satisfying tasks, even the unpleasant ones, that contribute to surrounding myself with beauty and comfort.  
• I stare out my big windows appreciating my great view of the city, water, mountains and the changing sky.  
• I've befriended the neighborhood cat and love sitting with him on my porch when he visits.  
• I try to see my youngest granddaughter (8) when I can: she still thinks I'm great and fun to be with so I have to take full advantage of that while it lasts.  She's my last admirer in the family.  LOL
• I see a few treasured friends.  
• I am reading for pleasure, having re-discovered fiction, especially woman-centered novels that are not sad or terrifying.  (English mysteries are nice.)  
• I am taking care of my growing-older body, which demands more time than one would imagine -- yoga asana practice, walking, weight training, nutrition, weight loss/maintenance, flossing. LOL  
• I take some occasional solo trips and am planning some big ones with Hub for next year.  
• I am re-learning needle crafts: sewing, embroidery, and my usual crochet.  
• I write this blog.  
• I teach some online yoga philosophy and general encouragement to meditate and move.  
• I scroll Facebook.  
• I watch TV shows -- lots and lots of cooking/travel/nature shows, fun comedies,  drama that isn't based on sadness and terror. (Thanks PBS).   
• I also watch football--Go Hawks!  (We all have our inconsistencies.  LOL)

All of that sounds like the very epitome of a woman I would have previously judged unengaged, lazy,  unmotivated, privileged, maybe stupid, definitely "old".  Uh-huh.  I am privileged.  I know that.  As for the rest?  Not so much.  I feel more alive and aware than at any other time in my life.  And I've stopped feeling badly about feeling contented most of the time.  I have devoted most of my adult life to efforts to effect change in the public square.  Right now I need to just stay home, do what I can -- but not more than I can stand.  I use my privilege to try to support those who are out there fighting the good fight.  I'm learning that others will do as they do for as long as it serves them to do it.  Then the baton is passed.  I've passed the baton for now.  

But 2024 is coming....who knows what next year will bring?  

At least, that's the view from here...©

SUNDAY, SUNDAY...SO GOOD TO ME...

I used to love Fridays the best, especially during my years in the paid workforce, especially when I was younger and TGIF held more promise than a night of binge-watching Netflix in my Jammie-clothes.  Fridays always felt like a party and often ended in one.  Friends gathering, Happy Hour, Date Night...all that stuff felt spontaneous and fun and vibrant and carefree.  Friday had just turned 21!

Then kids came along and my TGIF meant I was no longer single parenting, when Hub was generally home with us and not at work or other evening obligations, and I had some help with the boys who had run me ragged all week.  It was pizza night or movie night or family swim night with friends and their kids.  I was still "working" but not alone on the job.   Friday flirted with being a Partier, but was much more tired and a little more tattered.

Later, Friday was a respite from a calendar chockfull of evening obligations to attend groups and meetings.  We were involved in so many things in the community, our church, personal growth events that nearly every night of the workweek was scheduled.  On Friday we took a breath.  Sometimes.  Friday was middle-aged and trying to just keep time until Monday when it would all start again.

After retirement, Friday still has a burnished glow, a reminiscence of old times with the feel of a holiday, but it's not the beacon of light and relief it once was.  It's not all that different from the other nights.  We bid out granddaughter goodbye and clean up the house of all evidence of a two year old having taking over on Thursday and Friday on our Papa-Care and Granny-Nanny days.  We high-five each other for having made it through another week; we cook dinner, we watch Rachel Maddow, we watch some TV show or movie we've recorded earlier in the week, we go to bed at 10:00.  Friday is growing older; getting quieter, but still up for a laugh or two, if not a full guffaw.  Definitely not a party; more like a deep sigh.  I like Fridays, but...

Now, my favorite day is Sunday.  There are no expectations of Sunday.  Sunday dawns with no plan and no commitment.  Sunday is a blank slate.  Sunday is there to make and mold and become whatever I decide it will be.   Since I left my church two years ago, I don't even have to get up and make myself presentable for public view, don't have to be somewhere at a certain time, nor stay late for a social gathering or committee meeting.  Sundays used to be "half-days" since by the time we got home it was 1:00 or after.  Now I get a full, long, luxurious day to .... do nothing much at all.

So, I don't have much to show for my Sundays -- by design.  I give myself permission to be flat-out lazy.  In the fall, like now, I throw on my Seahawks hoodie with a pair of yoga pants, grab a cup of coffee, read the paper, scroll through Facebook, meditate.  Then I might make some pancakes - a Sunday treat - and chat with Hub over late breakfast.  By early afternoon we get snacks ready and watch the Seahawks game together.  Then I might read, crochet, decide when to watch our Sunday night programs -- choosing among our current Sunday night line-up of Outlander,  John Oliver, Parts Unknown, and returning next week, Good Behavior.  We don't watch them all, of course...we save some for mid-week.  But the point is, Sunday is a day of slovenly rest for me (but a workout for my DVR).   Sunday is chill.  Sunday is contentment.  Sunday is me being in the flow of "being" with no agenda.  I guard my Sundays with a pit bull's intensity.  My calendar rarely has anything scheduled and if so, it's with some reluctance and regret at times.

I remember the excitement of Friday -- like the wind in my hair on the back of a motorcycle.  But for now, give me a Sunday -- a mug of coffee, a warm blanket, and my remote control.

At least, that's the view from here...©

WHAT DO YOU DO TO KEEP BUSY?

I'm on a mission.  I feel I need to figure out once and for all what the hell I do with my time...my life.

Hub and I had dinner the other night with folks we don't see too often, so of course I was asked, "What have you been up to?  What do you do to keep busy?"  This woman is recently retired and working to find a new rhythm and purpose to her life, so naturally she is wondering what people do with their days when they are not in the paid workforce.  For some reason I never wondered that.  I always felt like I had about ten times as much "to do" than there were hours in the day when I was working for money, so when I retired I felt liberated, not lost.  But it's a valid question nonetheless.  What do I do?

Actually, when she asked me this, my mind went almost blank. What DO I do?  I stammered out that I go to Yoga two-three times a week.  I write my two blogs.  I watch our little granddaughter two days a week.  That's all I came up with.  Weird.  Because every day whizzes by and I guess I don't have much to show for it.  Not much "accomplished".  No one thing that summarizes my everyday life.

I love my time with friends -- lunches, breakfasts, coffee dates, art museums, craft fairs, movies, and marches.

I love scrolling through Facebook -- the introvert's favorite social connection to those near and far.

I read online articles and commentaries and blogs in a variety of publications.  I have new glasses now so I can go back to reading actual books and magazines.

I watch TV with Hub at night.  A lot.  Done apologizing for this.  Love it.

I take a shower now and then.

I clean my own house, although I'm about to ditch that because it's tedious and one of my friends has a great housecleaner I plan to contact.

I host our family for dinner once/week, but Hub does the cooking, so not sure that counts.

I do laundry, but how hard is that?  It's not like I'm beating my jeans against a rock.

Hub does the grocery shopping, but I do all the gift shopping when gifts are needed, which isn't that often, but still.

I go to occasional classes and workshops.

My doctor tells me I have to do more aerobic exercise, so that's popping up to the top of the list, along with the regular yoga I mentioned.

I balance our accounts, pay all our bills, and keep a spreadsheet of our expenses.  That takes a few hours twice a month; could be less if I didn't have a math disability and number dyslexia.

I volunteer for a few hours at my old job monthly and in my granddaughter's classroom weekly.  I crochet baby blankets for a social service program that provides layette supplies for moms-in-need.  And of course there is my two days/week of Granny Nannying, chasing a two-year-old around.

I plant stuff in the garden and stand and watch for it to either die or grow.  I mostly insist it all thrive on benign neglect.

Sometimes I wander around the house visiting all my years-long-in-residence house plants, as if they are old friends, and being amazed at how healthy and happy they are; this now seems like a weird thing to do and to admit.

I am also currently trying to save the Republic from ruin, so all those phone calls and letters and rumination (mostly rumination) take time.

I don't know what the hell I do.  Certainly not anything that can be summarized in a simple declarative sentence.

And maybe that's the beauty of retirement that she will discover.  You don't have to "do" anything!  You just have to "be" in the world  -- alive, curious, open.  You can say "yes" or you can say "no".  Your life becomes one you can control and create, if you have the health and means to be the master of  your own fate in whatever way that manifests.   She will find there is plenty to "do" and even better, hopefully, will learn the art of how to "be".

What do I do to keep busy?  I stay alive.  I live.  I just am.  It all unfolds and I watch with wonder at how my life and choices shift with the changing tides of need and opportunity.  And I realize how content I can be with long days of doing absolutely nothing of consequence.

At least, that's the view from here....©