The Wide Open Sea

Yesterday, a good friend of mine from college announced that she was taking an early retirement from a career that she has had since we graduated from college almost 30 years ago. I am so excited for her, and I am also extremely curious to see what she ends up doing next. I think that this new stage of life, this second half of adulting, sometimes feels a little rudderless. The options are starting to open up more and more, and that feels exciting, yet daunting, and sometimes overwhelming, all at the same time. For a long time, I was sailing along in the narrow channel of raising a family, while my husband built his career and supported our family, and now, I am seeing this wide open seascape at the end of the channel. It’s thrilling, but my compass is doing that wild shaking and moving that happens sometimes with compasses. It hasn’t quite settled down yet. I am eager to watch the other ships who have travelled the narrow channel with me, enter into the big, blue sea. I am curious as to where their new travels will take them, as the confines of the structural shores, slowly fade away. I want to be inspired by the other captains’ ideas and visions. I want a new destination point. I don’t like feeling rudderless.

This is a time period in our lives where “the lulls” are starting to be broken. Our kids are growing up and moving out. Our priorities are starting to shift, sometimes rapidly. We’re getting signals by watching the changes in other people’s lives that remind us that we don’t have to keep doing things the way which we have been doing them. There is no “one size fits all” formula to live life, and that seems more acutely evident now, than it ever has before. Two others of my closest friends from college become official empty nesters this year. By summer, all of their children will have graduated from high school and moved on towards their own adult lives. I am only one year away from this phenomenon myself. Wow.

I am guessing that in this next stage of my life, I will be doing a lot of loop de loops. There is a great deal more space in wide open sea, to change directions, and to stop and to explore small islands of curiosity. There is more space for error in wide open territory. Of course, the weather can get turbulent. There may be less “protection” from the winds of change, that my narrow channel afforded. Still, I am ready for the adventure. Anticipation is a delicious part of life. Anticipation of the unknown is one of the biggest thrills in life, if you can get past the fear.

We are not retreating - we are advancing in another direction. - Douglas MacArthur

Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Paved Paradise

Beautiful Flowers - Picture of Rotary Botanical Gardens ...

We have a little narrow flower bed in our back yard that is sort of a hodge podge of plants that didn’t do well in the front of our house, or in other more notable flower beds and planters around our house. We plant these failing, limp little greenies in this back bed, by a small lake, in hopes that they get revived. We got the idea from our local Home Depot store. They have a flower bed in an otherwise hot and cracked and ugly parking lot, that is filled with plants that didn’t sell. And honestly, both of these flower beds are among the prettiest groupings of plants and flowers that I have ever seen, other than in fanciful, public, well-tended botanical gardens. The flowers in our back bed and in the Home Depot leftovers bed, thrive and bloom and burst with all different colors and shapes and sizes. They aren’t particularly planned out arrangements, but the mixture of all of them, reaching to the sky and showing off their blooms and green finery, is stunning. The plants scream “I’m Happy!” Invariably, the plants and flowers which we put into our back bed, thrive better than any other plants that we care for, inside and outside of our home.

It struck me the other day, that through this whole coronavirus situation, a lot of us have been thrown to “the back beds” of our lives. But the interesting thing is, I would be willing to bet that we all have gotten a few “happy surprises” and insights about ourselves and our lives. We might find that there are some aspects of being in the back bed that have really helped us to truly thrive, maybe even in some ways, better than ever. In my own family, my husband has worked from our home, instead of an outside office, for the first time in his thirty years of working on his career. And he likes it. My mentees have mentioned that online learning works better for them and they feel like they are learning more, without distractions. Friends and family have all noted that the less rushed pace and the no longer filled up calendar pages, have really helped with catching up on much needed rest and contemplation. We all seem to hope to keep more open space in our lives, even after this virus situation corrects itself. I have found myself rediscovering some very comforting corners of my own house, with pretty views that I never took the time to notice before. My husband and I are in the beginning stages of contemplation of what and where our empty nest should look like, once our daughter goes to college in a couple of years, and this virus situation has really helped narrow the field. Despite sometimes being intrigued to try city living (we’ve always been suburbanites), we realized, through this situation, that it is an abundance of nature which really soothes our souls. A big city is no longer a draw for us, in retirement. In fact, we’ve even been tossing around the idea of a more rural way of life.

Most of the plants which we attempt to heal and to revive, in our back flower bed, come back with a flourish. Sometimes we do end up re-planting the renewed bloomers back in other parts of our yard, but many of the once withering plants, end up staying in place, in the back bed by the lake where they were restored. They stay where they were healed. They bloom where they are planted. And their beautiful rejuvenation is a glorious sight to behold!