Sorting: An Act of Discernment

I declined an invitation, a request to lead a book discussion. 

A few months ago I had accepted that same invitation, but then COVID 19 cancellations and lockdowns occurred, and the plan was set aside. Around the same time my family began the vigil with my father, culminating with his death early in May. Since then a good share of my time and energy has been related to "Dad Details." None of them daunting in and of themselves, but requiring time and energy and each wrapped in a delicate awareness of loss.

And part of that awareness is that in our family there is now no one between me and death. My brother announced days after Dad died, "You are the matriarch of the family." I am the oldest in our family now, even a few months older than my husband, and even though death doesn't necessarily follow birth order, I feel the weight of my years even more. I dared to say to myself, "You are the next in line to die."

I learned through reading an excellent book,  The Orphaned Adult, Understanding and Coping with Grief and Change After the Death of Our Parents by Alexander Levy, that my feelings about being "next" is not uncommon. 

What does this have to do with declining the invitation to facilitate a book discussion now that a new date has been set and now that we have all become used to ZOOM meetings? 

I feel an urgent need for discernment. What is it I most need to do right now? How do I live with purpose and authenticity right now? What will I regret not doing when I come to the end of my days? 

At the same time how do I respond to the extraordinary challenges of these times? How can I use my gifts to make a difference in even a small way? 

These questions require a process of sorting: writing in my journal, sitting in the quiet, praying, meditating, and sharing my thoughts and questions with loved ones. 

And, also, literal sorting. Going through the piles on my desk and other surfaces in my office. What can be tossed? What has been hidden that needs to be resurrected? What no longer has relevance or holds interest? What needs to be addressed NOW and what can be set aside? What makes my heart flutter?

I now have lovely boxes, neatly labeled and stacked near my desk, but the sorting process is still a work in progress. What is my inner voice whispering to me? How does what has been shuffled into boxes relate to what feels more like purpose, like call?

These are big questions, but the thing is, I am no longer 30 or 40  or even 60. I am 72, and I feel a need to be even more mindful of how I use my days, how I live my life.

While I will still be open to opportunities, to ways I can serve that are presented to me, and I still intend to honor my ongoing commitments, I need to return to some unfinished work--the memoir that has been in progress for a very long time. Plus, I have a new idea for a book of meditations about vigil times, and it feels important to pursue that. 

My heart is tugging me in those directions. I hear an internal refrain, "write, write, write  

I need to carve out more time to do that, and one practical way is to limit my blog posts. Although I love writing these posts, imagining you reading them and perhaps, thinking about the questions I pose, I have decided from now on I will post every Tuesday, but most weeks not on Thursdays. 

And I will continue to sort.

An Invitation
What is rising to the top of your life pile? I would love to know.