Midlife

Today is the last day of July. It is also the last day I will live in the town I and my family have called home for nine years. My husband and I couldn't see ourselves, both professionally and personally, staying in place for the foreseeable future. So, change has been in the air for the last few years; transitioning concretely for 12 months was the right decision but not without its challenges as well. Truthfully, I am now more than ready to say goodbye after all this time.

Tomorrow, I head to a new home and into the home stretch of turning 50 in November. I consider this a milestone, midlife. This may be a bit optimistic as it naturally means I would live to 100 in a most active, productive, and joyful manner, of course. Nonetheless, I consider the coming year to be one of opportunity, the opportunity to become the change agent of my own life.

With so many positive changes at hand for the members of my immediate family unit, including the increasing independence of my children, I want to seize the year as one of setting concrete personal goals, challenging myself, and trying new things. I may have far fewer than 50 years left, and I don't want to leave the gift of this life with regrets or allow my fears of the "new" to hold me back.

So, tomorrow I will take the first step, trusting that I learned how to walk a long time ago. One mantra I repeat applies here: "If you don't use it, you will lose it." So, I will practice a bit of courage in the coming year and commit to change. I don't know the final destination or what I might harvest from the seeds I plant, but I begin with a heart full of trust in the process and knowledge that the seed desires nothing more than to sprout. I will write about the journey here -- stay posted.

Trust

Thomas R. Smith

It's like so many other things in life
to which you must say no or yes.
So you take your car to the new mechanic.
Sometimes the best thing to do is trust.

The package left with the disreputable-looking
clerk, the check gulped by the night deposit,
the envelope passed by dozens of strangers—
all show up at their intended destinations.

The theft that could have happened doesn't.
Wind finally gets where it was going
through the snowy trees, and the river, even
when frozen, arrives at the right place.

And sometimes you sense how faithfully your life
is delivered, even though you can't read the address. 

Cairn

What it takes to get through January

is what it takes to get through Life. 

~ Vivian Swift When Wanderers Cease to Roam

January has been really tough on me this year, one of the toughest Januaries I remember. Honestly, I am ashamed to say this and realize I have no one to blame but myself for the last 31 days as even the weather has been more cooperative than usual. I have had some rough Januaries like the January after my husband had a heart attack at the age of 41 or the January I was pregnant with my youngest daughter and the anniversary of our stillborn son was fast approaching. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, of that nature or magnitude has happened to start this year.

Rather, I am sitting and doing little compared to my usual busyness, often stewing in my own negativity. I am waiting for spring to arrive, for the move next summer, for the results of decisions completely out of my hands such as what colleges will accept my older daughter (really, all of them ought to be delighted to enroll her!), what options will lie before her, and what choice she will then make. Or, what will life be like in our new hometown for each one of us. What challenges lie ahead? What unexpected delights? Our circle of thoughts can be our greatest nemesis!

The only reason this is a tough January is that the month has made the best of my weaknesses, my desire to control life and to worry about the worst outcomes when I can't control it. I prefer to prepare for what's next and keep moving, working to meet the next goal. However, our life is on hold right now as we transition slowly which demands a patience I seem to be lacking at the moment even though I am primarily a two marshmallow girl to my very core.

I believe in fate and karma and serendipity, all things far beyond our control. We can only put our best foot forward just like our daughter put her best foot forward and see what happens. So, I am writing this post to dig deep and find my optimism and faith not in a higher power but in the knowledge that what will come, will come, and we will meet it when it does.

Stress and immobility come when the veil of our naivete of control is lifted. Much of life IS out of our control. We can only try to make the best decisions with the information we have in any point and time and face the rest with flexibility and hope. In fact, the lack of control is what makes life interesting, complex, surprising. For now, being present in the present is challenging, but the present is really, really good. Most of the time, I know this and live it. Sometimes, I need to remind myself, encourage my best self, and write a post like this.

So, I decided that perhaps I need to build my own cairn, my own heap of stones piled high as a landmark on this road. One stone placed each day in February can serve as a reminder of all my best intentions, my hopes and fears, my thoughts of gratitude and supplication. These cairn photographs from a recent hike are from Sapsucker Woods and the Andy Goldsworthy cairn found in its midst. A friend introduced me to his work, which anyone who loves nature will appreciate. With my cairn, I hope symbolically to heap my fears, to loosen my grip a bit, and to embrace February and all it may bring....