A Lament of Age When Sliding into Retirement

God I need a partner. I need someone beside me. I need a guide, a helper, a companion that will share tasks with me. I need a companion that will share tasks with me. Please, someone to do this with ……

I think today may be better. Not quite the slog the last few days have been. The allergy pill may already be helping. Please god, no more/less slog. My life is not this difficult. I beg for energy, focus, astuteness, emotional security/safety.  Some days the only time I feel sane is sitting at my desk, with sun coming in my east window and rainbows dancing on my walls, the floor and my hands as I type; as I put my soul into words on the screen in front of me. Today may have been, may become one of those days but thus far the allergy pill may be getting me past the worst part of starting life over yet once again in a world I find beautiful and was taught by my mother was hell.

I know there is a heaven Nancy. Because this is hell. Words from my mother. Is my constant internal struggle a struggle between heaven and hell? This is not heaven, but it is as good as it gets and I have it very good. I have a very precious, lovely, loved life. My alone self is somewhat self-imposed and totally common to most people. I am far less alone than many many many others.

I am pulled, I am compelled, like a magnet dragging itself toward the north pole, I can not stay away from the sun beams, the seductive call of writing down my soul, the warm wiggling welcoming open fingers beckoning me to sit and unravel the snarled up threads of my  life.

That is it isn’t it: unraveling the snarled up threads of my life. That is what I am trying to do. I am trying to understand the meaning of being here. Why am I here? Why have I been here all this time? How much more time do I have? How do I use that time well? At some level, in our own unique way, we all, sometime in our life ask each of these questions. The least introspective of us wonder from time to time…..the more introspective wonder most of the time.  Our bane.

Ultimately I am not lonely at all. I am doing fine and am totally cognizant that I have chosen to wisely use these last two months as I prepare to move and as I am in the process of completing a significant and huge stage of my life, to integrate and absorb as much of what I know about life now as I possibly can. I am grateful for introspective time when the wailing and pleading of a small child is given voice and space. When the courage and passion of an adult woman can be celebrated. I know I am not asking anyone to do my struggle for me. I rejoice I can do it myself and frequently a way through the slog and fug is my fingers on the mother board. I like that….the mother board. (smiling face)

Yesterday I urged you to write your story. We all have a story we tell ourselves about our life. It is an important story, it wants to be told, it should be told. Healing, growing, loving of self, forgiveness, joy, surprises all come from that story telling. It changes each time it is told because our perspective is always changing. That is fine. Your story in this moment is the point.

Today I am suggesting you let yourself sing, dance, write, draw, paint, pound, run, hit pillows, whatever you need to do to express your lament. What is the child inside longing to tell you? Listen. Give voice to the little hard parts deep within you. They deserve some air time.

Maybe taking an allergy pill will help you if you are feeling stuck and don’t want to do any of the above suggestions. It seems to have shifted me, for the time being at least. Allergy pill and mother board. Dad and Mom. I love it!  (another smiley face)

Love you, Nancy

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