And So It Goes

"There is no real ending.  It's just a place where you stop the story."

                                                                     ~ Frank Herbert

This is where I stop the story of Considering the Alternatives.  For several reasons, it seems the right time to start a completely new chapter, perhaps a sequel?  

The transition I set out to blog about so many months ago is complete.

Our move to St. George is complete.  It's not just that we have regular routines, new friends, services we trust, and know our way around the city.  It's the feeling, the declaration we make when we return from a trip that "it's good to be home."  Not St. George, but home.  

Our adjustment to retirement is complete.  Well, mine is - John continues to do business via his website.  I have new hobbies, new interests, relationships that have nothing to do with past events or career.  A new structure to my days and activities has evolved.  And a new sense of direction and commitment.

So as promised in my last posting, I have launched a new blog in which to document that commitment.  Please check out                          

                                               
                                                http://justanothercandle.blogspot.com

and if you find it interesting, I hope you will follow it and tell others to check it, too.

In Praise of Procrastination!?!

"Procrastination enables us to understand the true measure of our reluctance." 

~ David Whyte 

I have struggled with procrastination for as long as I can remember.  I've examined the issue inside out and upside down.  With little more than temporary clarity and not much change in behavior.  I'd almost surrendered to the idea that "it's in my DNA" when, I came across this quote by poet and author, David Whyte, in Consolations:The Solace, Nourishment, and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words:

                  "Procrastination when studied closely can be a beautiful thing, a parallel with patience, a companionable friend, a revealer of the true pattern, already caught within us; acknowledging for instance, as a writer, that before a book (or a poem, or a letter - or a blog?) can be written, most of the ways it cannot be written must be tried first in our minds; on the blank screen, on the empty page or staring at the bedroom ceiling at four in the morning."

Procrastination, a beautiful thing?  A companionable friend?  Not a source of angst and self-recrimination?   Even the possibility was a relief.  I decided to test his assertion by specifically examining the source(s) of my reluctance to compose this posting - (which has in fact been tried out in my mind ad nauseum for months now).  What's behind, lurking underneath, not what's wrong.  And a  bigger question - why is it such an effort to create these posts, when I easily write three to four pages in my private journal every morning?

I decided to approach my examination gently and patiently.  Just to pay attention. And possible answers emerged, slowly, unexpectedly, on a walk, while journaling, while making the bed, while reading someone else's blog, at four in the morning.  If you've ever struggled to write, you may recognize some of the litany that surfaced - maybe there's a better way to say this; maybe there's a better topic; I don't write as well as (supply anyone else's name!); this isn't clear enough, clever enough, good enough, important enough; a blog isn't private; what if I throw a party and no one comes,  etc., etc., etc.

Finally, the "AHAs".   I've been approaching blogging like a school assignment, needing to write an essay about a topic that kept changing!  Wondering if I'll get a good grade.  I do want to create a blog, but with the ease with which I journal and about a topic or theme I consider important, whether or not anyone else agrees.  

Therefore, I have decided to terminate this blog and start afresh.  With a clean slate.  With a focus on the issue that is important to me and growing more important with each passing day.  Just Another Candle will be about aging, not aging gracefully, or artfully, or with dignity or any of the other popular descriptors.  Just aging from the vantage point of one everyday, aging, curious woman.  No expert, not Jane Fonda or Andrew Weill. Observations, and questions, some insights, no advice. I'm almost ready to launch it and will post an addendum here to let you know where and when you can access it.

A final thought about procrastination - it really did provide the space and opportunity to understand the true measure of my resistance and by taking advantage of that opportunity, I could compose this post with relative ease.  I look forward to Just Another Candle.  I have lists of ideas for topics.  So I agree with Whyte, procrastination can be a revealer of the true pattern, but we have to be willing to see it, to own it and do something about it.

Now, why do I continue to procrastinate about exercise?

I'm Getting Off the Goal Setting Band Wagon!

"To change one's mind in changing circumstances is true wisdom. "

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Every year, for the past 30 years, I've spent several days of the holiday season thinking about, writing about, and talking to my husband about goals for the coming year.  Ambitious goals.  Every year I've created elaborate plans to meet those goals. 

Not this year.  No goals, not even New Year's resolutions.  It's not that I intend to become a couch potato, simply veg out, or give up.  But events of the past few weeks have reminded me of a lesson I thought I'd learned when I had cancer, and then again when John did.  The lesson best expressed in that old saying,  "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry".   

Goals focus on the future.  They contain the promises of success, satisfaction and happiness if only we plan carefully and execute with determined diligence.  If we follow the approach of any one of a variety of goal setting gurus.  Heaven knows I've tried many,  and taught a few to coaching clients. Yet, even in my most productive of years, I've not met all my goals.  

Because life has the inconvenient habit of intervening. Competing commitments arise, new opportunities, new information,  and new relationships emerge.  Then, there's the inevitable disappointments, illness and loss.  In our lives.  In the lives of those we love. Or those we know from afar. 

So this year, I've decided to focus on one simple, over-arching objective - to do something each day to add to the quality of my life and that of those I touch.  That's it.  Right here, right now - to do what I can to be positive and engaged.  To learn and explore new interests.  To take better care of my health.  Right here, right now.  Nothing grand or elaborate.  Little things, like taking that walk when I don't feel like it, or giving John my undivided attention when he comes to share something.  Little things, like turning off the TV to read (or not turning it on in the first place.)  Little things, like sending a hand written note or card to someone with whom I've lost touch or letting someone go ahead of me in the grocery line. Little things like noticing, really noticing the desert sky at dusk or watching our little family of feral cats snuggle up to keep warm.  Those little daily things that can get too easily lost in the pursuit of some future goal. The things that build resiliency and well-being, that strengthen relationships and make a fragile existence easier to navigate.

If I hadn't come to this decision over the past few weeks, I'd like to think I would have these past two days.  If you've listened to the many analysts and sports figures share their stories and memories of Stuart Scott, the  ESPN analyst who lost his battle with cancer yesterday at the age of 49, you couldn't miss the outpouring of love and gratitude  for his acts of kindness and generosity, for his humor and love of life.  This was a man who was respected for his courage and accomplishments, but cherished and valued for who he was as a human being.  He was a man who added to the quality of life of many, many people.  

So, my best hope for this new year is that it be filled with health, love and laughter, and that come this time next year I can say it was a very good year, one of the best ever.  My hope for you is definitely the same.

It's About Time

"Question:  How contrive not to waste one's time?

Answer:  By being fully aware of it all the while."                         ~ Albert Camus

I came across this quote last week while searching for quotes about time to kick start some journaling.  Why time?  Because I got tired of hearing myself asking, "Where has the time gone?".  And I seem to be asking that question a lot lately. 

There's been the obvious events that's got me thinking about the passage of time - an impending birthday, seeing friends we haven't seen in over 10 years (10 years!), underestimating a nephew's age, looking in the mirror and seeing my mother's face looking back at me.  But it's been the small, daily reminders that have been niggling at me - the arrival of a new edition of a magazine when I haven't read last month's yet, tearing off another page from the calendar, hearing that someone younger than I am has passed away, or simply noticing it's later than I thought on going to bed while having accomplished only half of what I had intended.

So I've begun to pay greater attention to how I spend this valuable resource called time.  And it is not easy!  Some things I already know - that I am easily distracted, that I spend more time on the enjoyable pastimes, and far less on something that I dislike (think cleaning toilets!) and that I lose track of time when talking with someone I love.  But I am also learning some new tricks for this old dog - that by simply paying attention, by being more aware I have more control of the distractions.  That my father was right - it is easier to avoid temptations than resist them.  That, perhaps, time means something totally different in your 70's than in your 30's anyway!  And, perhaps, the most valuable AHA - that in any transition, one of the greatest challenges is to learn new ways to spend time.

I wonder, can anyone really be aware of time "all the while"?  For now, however, I'm just trying to be more attentive.

 

Delayed Reaction

July in St. George - the dog days of summer. Daily temperatures between 100-115, driving the snowbirds north and full time residents in search of cooler climates for vacations. Putting many community activities on hiatus for July and August - activities that occupied much of my time these past months.

This abrupt cessation in activity, a regular occurrence every summer in St. George, is new to us, and I have found it disconcerting to say the least. With our house in order, and major projects complete, I felt adrift.  Initially reacted with uncharacteristic angst and anxiety.  I slept poorly, watched a lot of mindless TV, got lost in computer games. Finally, bored and frustrated with myself, I turned inward and dove into my personal journal, writing page after page of "what is going on here?" Surfacing every day just a little clearer, a little more focused.

My conclusion, duh!!!  In retrospect, so obvious. If I were observing someone else, I could have called it in a heartbeat. Having no children, no longer a career, no all-consuming projects (like moving in), no special avocation, and suddenly very little external structure, I'm finally facing retirement straight on. This transition is far from complete.

So, now I'm deep into the my journal considering questions like:

• What, if any, issues have I been avoiding related to retirement?
• How much freedom is too much freedom?
• How many choices are effective? Should I be deciding or continue exploring?
• When is enough, enough?
• Of the several activities I pursued last fall, which do I want to continue and why?
• I most enjoyed my drawing class and suspect drawing could become a true avocation, not just a hobby...so what's holding me back?
• What if I carve out a studio niche? 
• How about returning to college rather than take community courses?
• How can I contribute more to this community that I have grown to love?
• How will I use this gift of unstructured time to create more structure for myself - driven more internally than externally?

Next summer, the only challenge I'd like to consider is how to deal with the heat!!

,

Questions, I've Got Miles and Miles of Questions!

A few years ago, I read The Answer to How Is Yes, by Peter Block, in which he posed that we are asking ourselves and our organizations the wrong questions, and thus arriving at inadequate, frequently poor answers/solutions.  He postulated six more potent questions, the last of which I found to be the most provocative.

"What is the question whose answer would set you free?"  Even though I couldn't come up with a good example of such a question at the time, I filed it away, satisfied that I would recognize one when I heard or saw it - or better yet, posed one myself.

Well, I've stumbled upon a great example, for me at this point in my life.  For others who are in the midst of a transition, I suspect.  Wish I'd come across it at other turning points in my life!  The question? 

"What is it too soon for, too late for, just the right time for? ~ Dawna Markova 

Haven't got an easy answer, but that's one of my criteria for a good question.  No quick or glib or superficial response will do.  The question persists, niggling at the corners of my mind, burbling in the background like our water fountain, surfacing when I least expect it.  Demanding an answer. Even as I engage with it in my daily journal, as I have on several occasions, I end up with cursory or partial answers, and yet more questions.  Why do I think it's too late?  Who says so? Why am I hesitating? What if.....?

 And then, another question from the archives - What would you attempt if you knew you would not fail? ~ Robert Schuller

So, for the time being, just hanging out in the ambiguity, trusting that within this, no, these questions, is the kernel of something interesting and exciting for the future. 



The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

My attention was captured by the first trailer I saw. Dames Judi Dench and Maggie Smith, Tom Wilkinson - a cast of wonderful British actors in one film.  I wondered, however, if it was a chick flick and an aging chick flick at that. Could I convince John to come with me - he who loves special effects and has difficulty understanding accents?

Fortunately, word-of-mouth endorsements have been building in our retirement community and I reminded him that he had enjoyed "Midnight in Paris".  So we attended a Saturday matinee with perhaps a hundred other folks of our generation and, surprisingly, more than a few younger.

It was an appreciative audience, grateful I suspect to see performers of such depth and breadth depicting our generation, woefully neglected in the cinema, as capable of not only managing change, but generating it.  Capable of healing the past and orchestrating an invigorating future.  Riding a motorcycle through the teeming traffic of Jaipur?  Looked pretty invigorating to me.

It is a sweet and compassionate film, presenting its characters - the elderly British and the young Indians - as well as India itself, with sensitivity and respect. (Judi Dench's character, Evelyn, easily could become a poster child for how to age with dignity). 

So, whatever the critics and pundits may say about this film, we loved it as did that Saturday audience, youngsters included, who left smiling, chattering, many eager to tell friends and family they have to see it.  I, for one, intend to see it again!



Still Meaningful after All These Years

This year marks the tenth anniversary of my battle, no, war, with cancer.  I was operated on in April, 2002 and had chemo over the following months.   Now, summer in Vegas is brutal.  Throw in the brutality of chemo - well, I fought every day just to remain remotely optimistic.
Admittedly, I read a lot of lightweight, escapist novels when I wasn't watching old musicals.
I think I saw every Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly movie ever produced and know the words to every song in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" and "The Sound of Music". 

I also read several books on Buddhism and Taoism, and anything that promised to provide some inner peace, some sense that life would be even better when I got to the other side.  They helped. I read a lot! Therefore, when I recently created a home for the books that have mattered the most to me over the years, I was surprised to see that only one book from that period made the cut.

Most days that summer is a bittersweet memory, popping up again only when I have my bloodwork or hear of a friend or acquaintance waging the same war.  But I wondered as I put the book among its neighbors if I would find it as moving, as impactful as I did 10 years ago.  I wondered why, this book, of the many I read that summer, was so important.

So, I've started to reread I Will Not Die an Unlived Life, by Dawna Markova.  Although the title seems most appropriate for someone with a life-threatening disease and Markova was dealing with leukemia at the time, it is the larger theme of the book that should speak to more people, that speaks to me again at this time in my life - recovering passion and purpose.  I'm fascinated by the questions she asks of herself and her reader, wrestling with them in my journal.  And moved by her honesty, her compassion and her eloquence.  Beside being insightful and courageous in recounting her own journey, she is a beautiful writer. Her metaphors are magical, her stories engrossing.

It is a fine book that can remain relevant 10 years later, that can have meaning during the hard times and the good.  When I am done with it, it will be returned to that special shelf.