Thursday Reflection: Mission Statement

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As part of doing research for the book I am writing, I have been reading the journals I wrote when we first moved to Shaker Heights, Ohio, in 1994.  Those first couple years of our life in Ohio were not easy, and the ongoing theme in my journals is grief and loss and loneliness, but those years were also a time of re-evaluation and reflection for me. What was it I wanted to do with that next stage of my life? 

I investigated all sorts of possibilities and walked a number of avenues, including freelance writing or going back to school and getting a theology degree. Eventually, I trained as a spiritual director, but that is another story.

Along the way I was motivated to write a mission statement for myself.
          
          My purpose is to be a lifelong learner, to live life with
          openness, with joy, with a spirit of tolerance, and to 
          share that attitude with others. My intention is to 
          express my love of God through my actions and 
          bearing, my being and my doing. 

Over the years these statements could have been modified, but I think the general meaning still fits who I am and who I strive to be. 
Within these statements is room for growth and change and for new interests and directions. The important thing, I think, is to be true to my essence--and to always be in search of that true self. 

As we age, some of us have a hard time knowing our purpose, finding a direction, especially as our work lives end or decrease and as the roles we have worn for many years are set aside. What a perfect time to ask ourselves what is most important to us? What really matters? What within you is asking to see the light and breathe fresh air?

Marjory Zoet Bankson in her book Creative Aging, Rethinking Retirement and Non-Retirement in a Changing World refers to the years between 60 and 75 as a "generative period' or "post career creativity that seems to arise from a deeper spiritual stratum--a layer of soul compressed under the pile of ego expectations and responsibilities that come from work and family needs in an earlier career stage." p. 3. Bankson refers to a "spiral of call" in which we are called to consciousness and creativity with each transition. 

Molly Strode refers to our "soul purpose" in Creating A Spiritual Retirement, A Guide to the Unseen Possibilities in Our Lives. Maria Harris calls this time "jubilee time" (Jubilee Time, Celebrating Women, Spirit, and the Advent of Age) and Richard Leider (Claiming Your Place at the Fire, Living the Second Half of Your Life) says "Elderhood is just another calling."

Here's another way to approach this time. Have you noticed all the shops springing up in which people have taken old furniture and have given it new life? That heavy china cabinet full of crystal that once dominated a formal dining room is now painted turquoise or chartreuse and holds kids' games and DVDs. A stiff wingback chair upholstered in brocade is now a riot of color and pattern. Perhaps we need to stand in front of ourselves and imagine what new color will boost us into vibrant energy? Or is there a way what has always been can become it own new thing? Can we re-purpose our view of ourselves and who we think we are, even if we think it is too late or we have done what we set out to accomplish and who cares anyway? 

I now realize our years in Madison were sabbatical years for me, years of transition, a link between our life in Ohio and the full circle return home to Minnesota. A time-out in some ways, but now I realize I am not done. I have re-examined my purpose, listened for the whisper of a call, and now I am eagerly building a practice in spiritual direction here, along with facilitating an occasional retreat or teaching a class on topics related to spirituality. And I am finally devoting myself to writing the book that has been percolating for nearly twenty years. Now is the time. 

I feel full of purpose and meaning. The particulars may change over time. I may need to update the upholstery or give my plans a fresh coat of paint yet again.  I may revise the methods and the commitments, but this time is all about knowing God within myself and living that with others. Yup, I think my mission statement written in 1994 still fits. 

An Invitation
What is most important to you right now? How can you live your life more fully and wholly right now? When you think about what has given you meaning in the past, how can that be re-purposed for your abilities and gifts right now? I would love to know, and if you choose to write a mission statement, would you be willing to share it? 

Links to Resources
Richard Leider
Molly Strode
Maria Harris
Marjory Zoet Bankson

Thursday's Reflection: Second Wind

Sometimes when we are with friends and clearly it is time for the evening to end--we are all tired and we have had enough wine and have covered many topics--I will get my second wind. I revive and suddenly am ready for more conversation and connection. That can happen as we are standing at the door with our coats on or when my husband is clearing the dessert dishes. "Beware her second wind,"my husband says. I am not sure why it happens, but I know even when I am home alone or spending a quiet evening if I don't get myself to bed in order to have the needed eight hours of sleep, I am apt to get my second wind and will read or watch tv or write late into the night. I seem unable to stop doing whatever absorbs me, and I don't want to let go.

Sometimes that second wind is productive. 

This time of my life feels like a Second Wind. 

I have written in this blog lately about fullness, rather than busyness, and now I find myself evaluating most everything on those terms. 

Am I merely creating ways to be busy or is what I am doing adding to the fullness of my life, of my being?

Is what I am doing and how I am being adding to the fullness of the world? 

How will I use this second wind and let it use me?

A second wind seems different from a second chance, although there may be elements of that, but rather a second wind is energy  asking me to be more of the person I was created to be. A second wind asks "What is the new horizon in you that wants to be seen?" to quote John O'Donohue http://www.johnodonohue.com in To Bless the Space Between Us, A Book of Blessings. 

A second wind says I'm not done yet. 

One day when my mother was close to dying, but not yet confined to bed, my father was going through some drawers where she kept boxes of stationary and note cards, and he brought them to me and asked if I wanted them. That didn't seem like the best timing, but before I could respond, my mother said with more feistiness than we had seen in recent days, "I'm not dead yet." 

A second wind comes to remind us of life still unlived. 

Recently on a very cold night, we took our grands out for pizza. Peter, one of the wisest seven year olds, I know, and I were hustling from the car to the restaurant, and I commented that I was cold, hungry, and tired. His immediate response was "At least we aren't sick or dead, GrandNan."

I know he's right because I can feel a second wind blowing around and through me. I'm not sick. I'm certainly not dead, and in this time of freedom there are so many ways, essential ways, profound ways, to ride that second wind. 

Joan Chittister http://joanchittister.org in her book The Gift of Years, Growing Older Gracefully, doesn't use the words Second Wind, but I think she would approve. This is what she does say in the chapter about freedom:

          Freedom, in childhood, may be the right to be totally

          self-centered. In adolescence, I am engaged in the fine

          art of concentrating on myself, until I know who I am 

          and what I am capable of being. In midlife I am free to

          become skilled, to become prepared, to become expert,

          to become independent. But freedom in old age is the

          ability to be the best of the self I have developed during

          all those years. It is the freedom to gather everything I

          have learned up to this point and to put it to even more

          exciting use now. It is the freedom to give myself away

          to those who really need me, in ways I have never had the

          chance of doing before. I am free to be important to 

          people with real needs. And with that new role in life, I

          become one of those rare people who know what it takes

          to go through life, survive its dislocations, outlive its

          expectations, and negotiate its shoals…

               When I realize that freedom really is the right to be

          me, rather than someone else--perhaps for the first time

          in my life--the liberation of the soul begins. And with it

          the unshackling of the mind. I can become something

          new, as well as simply more of the old. Because what-

          ever path it was that got me here is not the only path I

          have ever considered, ever been fascinated by, ever

          wanted to explore. So, why not now, when the

          exploration is boundaried by both common sense and

          a lifetime of experience?  pp. 110-111

The last few years much of my energy has been spent coping with having a house for sale in Madison and buying a home here and doing all that is involved in moving and re-settling. I needed all the energy I could muster to do what was in front of me. Now, however, a second wind blows gently around me, calling me into a new time of creativity and authenticity. The freedom I have now is to embrace my second wind and see where it takes me. 

An Invitation

Do you ever get a second wind and if so, what do you do with it? Do the words "second wind" resonate with you as you think about this time of your life? I would love to know. 

Thursday's Reflection: Key Questions

While transcribing some journal entries from 2008 for the book I am writing about the spiritual lessons of moving and finding home wherever one lives, I found material from a book I was reading at that time, Claiming Your Place at the Fire, Living the Second Half of Your Life on Purpose by Richard J. Leider and David A. Shapiro
 https://experiencelife.com/article/rekindling-your-fire/ 

Leider and Shapiro write about "re-inventing" our lives as we enter our second half of life, as "new elders." Just when do we enter this second half of life? I was 60 years old when I was reading this book and even if I live to be a 100, I was already well into the "second half" of my life, and when I was in my 40's and 50's, the more realistic second half of my life, I was in my prime and certainly didn't feel like a new elder yet. Don't get me wrong, there is lots of good material in this book --and many, many others about how to live as we get older--but I have a bit of a problem with some of the terminology. 

I understand the need to label and name. Recently, I was putting together an agenda for a retreat I am leading, and I didn't yet have a title, a name for the retreat. I knew a name would help me focus and clarify the purpose and plans for the retreat. That had been true many years ago when I started a small writing and editing service I called Word Choice, and even when I was newly pregnant--the child growing inside felt so much more real to me when we picked out potential names. Naming is important, but somehow New Elder doesn't work for me. Another name I've heard used for this time of life is "second adulthood," and this stage has been referred to as "The Third Chapter" or even "Second Chapter." We Baby Boomers seem to be struggling to find a name, a title for ourselves and for our aging, but I suspect the real struggle is an individual one--how to live these years. 

That's where books like this one can be helpful. In 2008 I clearly was looking for guidance in what was an in-between time in my life.

My husband Bruce had recently started a new position as chief medical officer for Agrace Hospice in Madison, WI, and we were living in a bleak apartment we sarcastically called the LA for "luxury apartment." While we yearned to get settled in a new home, our home in Ohio had not yet sold, and we needed to wait. I had no idea what my life would hold in Madison, but hoped I could continue what had fulfilled me in Cleveland--a small spiritual direction practice, teaching in various venues on topics related to spirituality, perhaps even T'ai Chi. I wondered, however, in what ways I would need to re-invent myself, how I would need to adjust.  Even though the move to Madison was a good one, I had no idea what my next steps would be, could be. 

Leider and Shapiro posed some key questions to consider, and they seem just as relevant, perhaps more so, now that I am even further into my elderhood. pp. 37-38

Who am I?

      * What, and how deep, is my spiritual foundation?

      * What is my relationship with death?

      * Who are my spiritual teachers?

      *  How present am I in the moment?

Where Do I Belong?

      * How healthy is the place I'm living for me?

      * How at home do I feel in my home?

      * To what extent do I feel I belong in my community?

      * What opportunities do I have where I live to do the things I love to do?

       * How well do I manage my life so I mostly do what I care about?

What Do I Care About?

        * Who comes to me for help?

        * What are my gifts?

        * How am I using my gifts on the things I care about?

        * How fulfilling is my work?

        * How is the balance of work and play in my life?

       

What Is My Purpose?

         * How clear am I of my purpose?

         * How aware am I of my legacy?

         * What difference am I making in the world?

         * Who have I voluntarily helped in the last month?

         * What connections do I have to something greater than myself?

At the time I focused on questions of home, finding home. At other times I have focused more on the Who Am I? questions. Now I seem to reflect more on questions about my purpose and how to best use my gifts. However, one question flows into and relates to others, and all are part of our spiritual work.

We lived in Madison for almost 7 years, and I now know those were transition years in many ways, preparing us and ultimately allowing us to move back to Minnesota, to return home. I discovered while living in Madison I had retired. That was a huge surprise to me, but I eventually relaxed and enjoyed our years there. Now, however, I feel a resurgence of energy, of purpose, and feel I am in a place where I can use my gifts in meaningful ways. 

An Aside

One of the ideas I had started exploring not long before we made the move here was to start a group which would reflect on the key questions of this age and help participants enhance strategies and spiritual practices for this time of our life. I even thought of names for such groups--Contemplative Retirement or Enlightened Retirement Circles. See what I mean about the need to name? Anyone interested?

An Invitation

Which of the key questions from Claiming Your Place at the Fire resonate with you? Which ones are calling you for further reflection? I would love to know.

A Few Additional Resources

* Inventing the Rest of Our Lives: Women in Second Adulthood, What Matters, What Works, What's Next? by Suzanne Braun Levine

* The Third Chapter: Passion, Risk, and Adventure in the 25 Years After 50 by Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot

* Creative Aging: Rethinking Retirement and Non-Retirement in a Changing World by Marjory Zoet Bankson

* Creating a Spiritual Retirement: A Guide to the Unseen Possibilities in Our Lives by Molly Strode

* The Gift of Years: Growing Older Gracefully by Joan Chittister

  

  

Thursday's Reflection: Because I Can

An email from a friend one morning this week said she was still in her jams and reading "because I can and want to to be." Another friend, newly retired, said she intends to spend her days painting because she can. My husband and I spent a weekday afternoon with friends roaming river towns and enjoying the beauties of fall because we could. This morning I turned off my alarm and slept another 45 minutes because I can. 

What an interesting time of life--to so often be able to choose what you want to do, instead of doing what you have to do, need to do. Obviously, there are still things that are more on the side of have to do and need to do, for that is life, that is the way being an adult is, but aren't you delighted to discover all the choices you have now as your life becomes more spacious? Yes, I hear retired people say, almost gleefully, how busy they are, busier than they have ever been, but it seems to me it is a different kind of busy. Now the choices are made based more on passion and interest and a desire to connect or grow or give than on responsibility and survival. Or at least there is the potential for that to be the case. 

When talking about being retired I often hear the word "liberating." "I feel liberated," someone will say, especially if retirement has been a choice rather than forced in some way. To feel liberated, instead of lost, however, requires being awake to oneself and the present moment. 

As I often do, I turn to Joan Chittister's book, The Gift of Years, Growing Older Gracefully. http://www.benetvision.org

      We find ourselves at the greatest moment of choice we've ever had, at least since we left home on our own, since we identified what we wanted to do in life, since we made the great career move, since we decided, finally, to settle down. Now we have to decide how to live without being told how it's done.
    The slate is clean. The days are ours. The task now is to learn how to live again. p. 28

     The truth is that this new stage of life liberates in a way no other stage of growth can possibly do. All the striving is over now. We don't have to have the way we spend our time approved anymore. We don't have to work, produce, or get ahead anymore. The only thing required of us now is the blooming of the self. Like autumn flowers, rich in color, deep in tone, sturdy in the wind, our lives, not only have new color, they bring with them the kind of interior depth a fast-moving world so dearly needs.
      If we decide that life is over once the accoutrements of middle age are over--the career, the title, the children, the climb up the social ladder--and that there is nothing else worth doing, that the very definition of who we are has been summarily foreclosed, then if course it will be. We have ended ourselves.
       But if we can bring ourselves to strike out now to try on the rest of ourselves, there is a whole new world ahead of us. Parts of ourselves that have been so carefully hidden from others during all the years of responsibility and productivity--and just as often as not hidden from ourselves as well--are now ours for the trying.
       And it is the willingness, the eagerness to try, that makes all the difference. pp. 46-47

      This may, in fact, be the first moment in our lives when we are really free to choose work that brings out the best in us and so brings out the best in the world around us. We become co-creators of the world." p. 151

I am still in my pajamas as I write this post and once I publish it, I may decide to fix a cup of hot chocolate and sit in my favorite chair and read the book I started last night or I may get dressed  and take a walk, a walking meditation, or I may choose to work on the assignments for the writing class I am taking. These are "because I can" moments. They lift me, make me smile, and often restore me, but they can also stretch my imagination and spirit and lead me to a more profound "because I can" opening in my life.  

An Invitation
What are you currently doing because you can? Are you living your life more from a perspective of because you can or because you don't want to? Do you know the difference? I would love to know. 

Thursday's Reflection: Spiritual Practices As We Age

I have been reading and reflecting on two books during my morning meditation time recently: A Season of Mystery, 10 Spiritual Practices for Embracing A Happier Second Half of Life by Paula Huston http://www.paulahuston.com and Joan Chittister's The Gift of Years, Growing Older Gracefully, http://www.benetvision.org which I have read before and will probably read again. The two are a wonderful combination, challenging me into deeper contemplation of my life now and my intentions for living these years. I recommend them both.  

I do wonder, however, if Huston is responsible for the subtitle of the book.  The use of the phrase "second half of life" feels pretentious and inaccurate to me. Huston is 60. Does she intend to live till she is 120? The lessons and wisdom she offers in the book are valuable no matter one's age, but are not likely to resonate with a 40 or 50 year old, so right away we are faced with one of the myths our culture likes to perpetuate, lulling us into thinking we elders are in the second half of our life. Also, the word "happier" is one of those popular words right now. In fact, there is a Happiness Movement with books by Gretchen Rubin http://www.gretchenrubin.com at the forefront,  encouraging us and teaching us how to be happy. Do I sound like a curmudgeon? Sorry. I'll work on that. 

Instead of offering a view of aging as the "best years of your life," both Chittister and Huston acknowledge that old age is the most challenging stage of life. "We must be able to tap into all the wonderment of childhood, the hope of young love, the patience of parenthood, and the determination of middle age if we are not to be defeated by it." (Huston, p. xi) Defeated--that's a pretty strong word, especially since Huston reminds us that every time we look in a mirror we see a person who is in the process of dying. We have been since the day we were born, but we had a lot of living to do first. For some looking in the mirror translates into a challenge to cover up, to fight the wrinkles and the droopiness, using whatever means possible to maintain a youthful veneer. When doing that becomes an exercise in the extreme, I wonder what the real cover-up is. What soul work is waiting your attention?

My sister has a new kitten. Is there anything cuter than a frisky, playful kitty? As you dangle a length of yarn just out of her reach, she gets down on her haunches and waits for the right moment, her little rear end wriggling with anticipation and finally, she pounces at the colorful yarn. It is time, this is the time to take the leap, to reach for the lessons your soul has been inviting you to address all your life. 

Huston and Chittister are wise and congenial companions.

Huston explores the practices of listening, delighting, lightening, settling, confronting, accepting, appreciating, befriending, generating, and blessing as antidotes to what can become our defenses as we age: tendencies to be close-minded, to complain and fear change or to obsess about comfort and security, to deny reality and to judge, hiding behind our view of the way things should be. Instead, this is a time to live in the "continual presence of God," Huston says, quoting the theologian Karl Rahner. 

I find some practices easier than others. Right now as I think about what I want to do next (Do I want to give energy to building my audience for this blog? Should I take a course that will help me write and develop the drafts for books I say I want to write?  Do I try to start a spiritual direction practice here? A contemplative writing group? A group to explore the spirituality of this time of life? Where should I offer myself as a volunteer?), I am challenged by the practices of accepting and generating. How do I use my gifts, the wisdom within without getting stuck in the need to be productive or to achieve? Sitting with these words, accept and generate, one on each knee, letting them sink into my body, mind, and spirit, I ask for guidance. How is it I am to live in the continual presence of God? This is a time of discernment. 

I turn to Chittister whose short chapters wend their way through a wide range of topics: joy, meaning, regret, adjustment, freedom, success, solitude, forgiveness, memories. Here's what she says about productivity--an issue for me:

      Retirement has nothing to do with whether we work

      or whether we don't. It has something to do with only

      the kind of work we do and the reason we do it…

      retirement does not free us from the responsibility to

      go on tending the world…This may, in fact, be the first

      moment in our lives when we are really free to choose

      work that brings out the best in us and so brings out

      the best in the world around us. We become co-creators 

      of the world. pp. 150-151

At the end of each chapter, Chittister offers summary statements--a burden and a blessing. In the chapter about accomplishment, Chittister reminds us that "There is no excuse for simply dropping out of life. As long as we breathe we have a responsibility for the cocreation of the world, for the good of the human race." (p. 53) 

      The burden of a lack of commitment to accomplishment

      means that we have moved into a period of suspended

      animation, that aging is nothing more than deterioration.

      The truth is that aging means aging. Nothing more, 

      nothing less. It is just us grown ripe.

      The blessing of a commitment to accomplishment is 

      that, as we continue to bring out considerable skills, 

      experience, and insight to bear on the present needs 

      of humankind, we will certainly become wiser, definitely

      spiritually stronger, and more than ever a blessing to

      the rest of society.  p. 54 

I invited Paula and Joan into my life and we are in ongoing dialogue, whether they know it or not. They respond to my seeking nature, my need to go deeper, but my need to live what I am discovering as well. And they have provided me with just the right tools. You can be sure I will let you know what I learn along the way.

An Invitation

Where are you finding guidance right now and what spiritual practices are strengthening you on the path? What are you discovering? I would love to know. 

Tuesday's Reflection: Adjusting to a New Temperature

Bruce and I are now into week two of him working part time from home, and friends and family have been inquiring, "How is it going?"  Some ask based on their own experiences of transitioning from working full-time outside the home to part-time work of some sort or to full retirement--whatever that is! Others inquire with the view of change looming ahead in their own future. Still others are simply kind and curious and good at asking questions. 

I can say without hesitation that this new lifestyle is good. Bruce is happy, and I am happy, too. We have not yet discovered any problems to solve or areas where we need to be more considerate of each other or where we are getting in each other's way. Yet. Of course, that will come. The novelty will wear off, but so far so good, and that as Martha Stewart always says is a "good thing." 

By the end of the first week, however, I realized how tired I was. True, last week was not only Bruce's first week at home, but we also had the grands with us for a couple days and the grand dog with us for additional days; the painter here late afternoons finishing a complicated project which kept the house in a mild state of unsettledness; a garage sale in process for three days, and …who knows what else. I am too tired to remember! 

Even so I am aware enough to know that all the activity is not the total source of weariness. Frankly, I am not used to the amount of interaction which is now part of our day to day life. As an introvert, I adjusted quite easily and naturally to the quiet days I had all these months from Sunday afternoon to Thursday evenings when Bruce was in Madison working. I wasn't quite a hermit, but most of the time I chose when to interact, to be with people. 

Now there is someone else in the house. That someone calls up the stairs to the garret, "Can I come up?" Of course. I want him to come up here. I want to enjoy the ease of conversation, instead of only communicating via text or email or phone--we have never been good phone talkers and such interchanges usually left us dissatisfied. Still, I need to adjust. Like turning up the thermostat when the temperature drops, I need to turn up my ability, my willingness, for unplanned, incidental, spontaneous, in passing sorts of discourse. I am not complaining. I'm just noticing and am aware. 

Having the ability to chit chat during the day is different from the days when he would return home at the end of the day, and we could share the day's comings and goings. Now we are experiencing sharing as we go along. Certainly, many of those dinnertime conversations were less than satisfying, for he would be tired from a long, full day, and many days I would not have much of interest to contribute. I may have had a routine domestic day of loads of laundry and groceries purchased or I may have had an inner-directed day of writing, thinking, listening to my own soul work. Much may have been percolating, but was not yet available for sharing. Those end of the day times together had their own challenges, but we adapted and forgave the lapses, knowing they were temporary.

Now there are new challenges. This time has the potential to be one of holy delight, but that means adapting and adjusting and being willing to open to new ways of being with one another.  Paula Huston in her book A Season of Mystery, 10 Spiritual Practices for Embracing A Happier Second Half of Life gives some sound and clear advice.

     …we must first give up our notions about what should
    or should not be. We must be willing to let go of 
    personal preference or too much concern about what
    might inconvenience us. We must resist becoming anxious 
    when things don't go our way. For an overly controlling
    stance is the enemy of delight. p. 19
                            
I hope I am up for the challenge. I want to be and intend to be, for, I know, ultimately we will both reap the rewards. Bringing who we are into this time and space, we can come to know each other in deeper and more profound ways.  This is an opportunity for a new kind of presence to each other and to ourselves as spiritual beings. 

Yesterday afternoon I retreated to my garret to read and write in my journal and to nap as well. Bruce was at his desk when I walked up the stairs. Later he took the grand dog for a walk, and I thought for a moment about joining them, but I could feel I was not ready to leave the solitude I carved for myself. Soon, I said to myself, but at the moment I was not quite ready to adjust the thermostat to a more congenial and conversational temperature. Just give me a few minutes. 

An Invitation
Where is your thermostat set for daily interactions? Does there need to be some adjustment? What have you experienced when there has been a change in your lifestyle? I would love to know.

Tuesday's Reflection: Forty Years

When my mother would call to wish me "Happy Birthday," she would add, "I can't believe you are x years and that makes me x years." I admit I was irritated by her need to focus on what MY birthday meant about her own age, but our daughter Kate turns 40 this month, and now I find myself thinking about the relevance of those years in my own life. How is it possible that I have a daughter who is 40, I think, and yes, that means, I am 66. How did that happen? Sorry, Mom, I now understand why my birthdays were not just a celebration of my life, but also a measurement of yours. 

I look at our beautiful and talented daughter, who seems to handle all the facets of her busy life with such ease, and see that she is in the prime of her life. Her husband Mike and the kids, her work, including a new business she is starting, 9 Open Doors, Enneagram Coaching and Consulting, volunteer work, care of her home, her extended family, and friends, and attention to her own physical and emotional needs all add up to a bustling, on-the-go life. She seems to thrive, and I am in awe. 

I'm lucky, for I am her mother and therefore, she is a key person in my life, but if I didn't have the good fortune of being in that role Kate is someone I would want to know. Clearly, I am not the only one, for at the birthday party Mike arranged for her the other night, their backyard was full of friends and family who love and respect her. 

Yes, this is her time to celebrate and be celebrated, but one of the gifts of having children is how they become a measure of our own days. 

* 40 years ago Bruce graduated from medical school and started his residency in family practice in Minneapolis. For forty years he has been a vital and caring physician to families and individuals in all stages of life. Now Dr. B is in a new stage of life himself--partial retirement and working from home. 

* 40 years ago I ended my teaching career as a high school English teacher, but over the years I reclaimed and reformed myself as a teacher in a variety of ways; ways I could never have imagined when I left my classroom at Webster Groves High School on that last day. Today I wonder what the next form my life as teacher will take. 
  
 * 40 years ago Bruce and I moved from St Louis, where he attended medical school, to St Paul. He drove the U-Haul truck, and I drove our car. I was pregnant, very pregnant, and we had no idea yet if we would get the loan for the house we hoped to buy. Fortunately, we did get the loan, but we had to live with my parents for a month before we closed on that house. A testament to  my parents' generosity. Since then we have moved many times and 40 years later we now live in the very same neighborhood, only blocks away, from our first house. 
  
 * 40 years ago we became parents for the first time, and we embarked on four decades of life, love, surprises, jolts, obstacles, changes, delights, and growth, so much growth. However, we didn't always take the time to acknowledge it all. That's what this time--40 years later--is for. 

Kate is 40 this month and Geof turned 35 in March, and yes, I wonder how it is possible that the time has passed so quickly. I have a hard time remembering myself at those ages, and I suspect they are living in a more conscious and intentional way than I did. I hope so. I know they have given so much to us, and I look at them and the passage of time with wonder and gratitude. 

* 40 years ago was a time of huge change for us. This past year has been another time of huge change for us, as well. It is good to honor our own resiliency and adaptability and to count our joys. 

An Invitation
What milestones have made you look back over your life recently? How do you measure your days? Are there ways you need to acknowledge the passage of time? I would love to know. 

Thursday's Reflection: Our Commuter Marriage is About to End

Yahoo! This evening is the last time my husband will drive here from Madison and not return there on Sunday. For the last eight months Bruce has made the weekly round trip, and he has been such a good sport about doing that. Actually, I have been a good sport as well. We recognized how fortunate this arrangement has been as we have transitioned to life in St Paul. 

But enough is enough, and it is time to live in the same place full-time once again. Even though we both handle separation and being alone just fine, after almost 43 years of marriage, we would rather be together than apart.

Learning As It Happens
Still, I know there will be some adjustment. I am used to having the house by myself, and Bruce is used to coming and going on his own. Even though we are so eager for this change, I know there will be bumps along the way. Last weekend we experienced a minor tease of what could be ahead. 

The night he got home I told him I needed to do two errands the next morning.  That next morning while I was getting ready to leave, he called out that he was going to get coffee. No problem, until I had my keys in my hand and my purse on my arm and discovered he had taken my car. Yes, I could have taken his car, but I knew it was road weary, a polite way to say this car has LOTS of miles on it, and maybe it even needed gas. I decided not to wait till he got home, but called him and was pleased he answered his phone--that's another one of those ongoing discussions--and told him I needed my car. When he got home in a few minutes, he said I could have taken his car and I said HE could have taken his car. We laughed and moved on, but this silly incident was an indication of how used we are to functioning on our own. 

Yes, he has been here every weekend, but weekends have been play time, our elder version of Disney Time, and not much about the everyday routine of living in the same space. In some ways we will have to learn how to live together again. And the new wrinkle is that Bruce will be working from home the equivalent of three days a week with his desk, formerly known as the lady's writing desk, in the living room, almost the center of the house. How will that be? Will the fact that I like to listen to the radio when I am in the kitchen bother him? Will I need to wear a headset? Will he keep the desk looking neat and orderly? How much time will he need to be there and when? Is he interruptible? Am I? How do I establish and stick to my priorities? Will I always feel a need to respond when he wants to take a break and do something? What will our days look like? 

None of these questions are earth-shattering, and we have promised each other we will be hyper-communicative, but this is new territory and feels even more unknown because of the pattern of these last eight months.  

Opportunities for Change and Growth
This change makes me think how often older people are referred to as inflexible and unwilling to change, and even stubborn, just at a time in life when we are asked to and need to change even more. Retirement, even partial retirement, is a huge change and one that requires a set of skills that don't always seem to fit together. Be independent, but be collaborative. Be helpful, but stay out of the way. Be spontaneous, but find your own routine. Share space, but create your own space. Delegate, but not like a boss. Adjust, but be clear about your needs. 

Recently, I asked a friend, who has been retired for a few years, along with her husband, how it has gone. She laughed (A common response to that question!) and said the first year was great. Full of fun day trips and spontaneity and real pleasure being together. It was the second year that was trickier. The temporary vacation mentality turned into days settling into routine and accommodation. That's when the real adjustment began. 

Another friend was grateful her husband retired first, for he learned how to function on his own without benefit of a work schedule and colleagues to support him. He even had dinner waiting when she got home from work, discovering he enjoyed cooking. I am more than willing to be the cook in the family, and Bruce has always done a good job cleaning the kitchen,  never shying away from domestic duties. My good fortune!

The Real Issues
While those issues are important, they are not the crux of the matter. I am shocked that we are at this point in our life. How did we get here so fast? Our daughter turns 40 in August. How is that possible? It seemed like we coasted almost blindly through our years for so long, going to work every day, paying the bills, collapsing in front of the tv or falling asleep while reading a book, exhausted from days overflowing with activities and tasks. We never really envisioned that one day so much would come to a halt. It's not that we fear retirement or worry about filling our days or figuring out what's next, but the hourglass has more sand in the bottom than in the top, and we can't quite believe it. 

Some of us have been proactive, making changes in our lifestyle, even before retiring. We have a number of friends who have sold their family homes and moved into a home that promises easier living or have moved to be closer to family, as we have done. Downsizing and simplifying is a common mantra, and is a good thing, but in some ways it masks the bigger issue. We are doing this because we are aging, and we want to maintain some control over our lives. We hope our decisions will make the tough years less tough.  

Anyone in this post 65 age bracket is living their own scenario. Some have been forced to retire because of serious health issues. Some have retired and then are quickly faced with catastrophic illness. Some don't want to retire and are forced to, and others would love to adopt the "retired" label, but economic issues prevent that. Some couples are at odds with one another, discovering opposing hopes and dreams for this time or are facing issues that have been buried for too long. Some are still figuring out what they want to do with their lives only to discover they have lived most of their life. 

The truth is I don't know--none of us knows--what this part of the journey will bring. We know where it ends, but we don't know how and what will happen along the way. In the meantime I intend to do the best I can, take deep breaths, reach further into my spiritual being, and give thanks for the privilege of viewing life as a woman in her 60's. 

An Invitation
What advice do you have about retirement? If you are retired, what have you learned? What has surprised you? Is there anything you wish you had done differently or sooner? Where has your strength come from? I would love to know.

Bonus: Here are links to a couple blogs I think you will find valuable. The first is a lovely view of the flow of the day, and the next is a deep exploration of a recent loss. 
http://movingoutgranni.wordpress.com/2014/07/21/on-plum-splatters-the-dog-is-back-books-birthdays-and-the-shiny-red-bike/

http://coachnotes.wordpress.com/2014/07/29/learning-in-the-dark-grief-loss-and-other-taxing-teachers/

Tuesday's Reflection: Growing Older and One's Purpose

A Stress-Free View

My ears perked up when I heard a story on NPR's Morning Edition yesterday morning, "People Who Feel They Have a Purpose in Life Live Longer."
 http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2014/07/28/334447274/people-who-feel-they-have-a-purpose-in-life-live-longer  The story cited a study by Patrick Hill of Carleton University in Ottawa, Canada, which says having a purpose in life, defined by Hill as a "compass or lighthouse that provides an overarching aim and direction in day-to-day lives," may protect against the harmful effects of stress. My first thought was sure, that makes sense, as long as fulfilling the purpose doesn't cause more stress.

A common question when one retires these days seems to be "What are you going to do now?" My father, who is almost 91 and only fully retired for a few years, can't imagine someone intentionally retiring. He asks me with great concern, "What will Bruce do with himself?" Well, give the man a chance to find out! Besides, I wonder, is "doing" something the same thing as having a purpose? 

I know many people wait for retirement in order to do something --to spend more time working for a cause or to return to an interest that was set aside in favor of raising and providing for a family, such as painting or woodworking, or others have passports ready and are eager to visit all the places of their dreams. Many are eager for more time with grandchildren. Do those plans count as purpose? Is a passion the same as purpose? If I want to spend the day sitting in our garden reading a mystery, am I without purpose? Must I be purpose-full in order to live longer? 

Spirituality and Purpose
It seems to me the purpose of this stage of life is a spiritual one. 
Whatever we decide to do with whatever years we have in these elder years is almost beside the point.  The point is that there is purpose in aging itself. This is a time of assimilation of all the other stages of our life. This is a time to shed the layers of acquisition and ambition, of denial and delay, of illusion and image. This is a time to remember how God lives in us and we in God. 

This morning I started reading a book called A Season of Mystery, 10 Spiritual Practices for Embracing A Happier Second Half of Life by Paula Huston. There is wisdom here.
    
    …old age is the most challenging stage of life we face. We
    must be able to tap into all the wonderment of childhood, 
    the hope of young love, the patience of parenthood, and
    the determination of middle age if we are not to be defeated
    by it.Yet it is calling us to be better people than we've ever
    been, while at the same time, it is diminishing our capacities
    for serious effort. p.xi

Huston acknowledges that our culture mythologizes the aging process. Look young. Feel young. Be young. It doesn't take long to discover that aging can be the worst of times. However, when we become realistic about the inevitability of aging for as long as we live, that is, and also realistic about the promise that we will die, it can also be the best of times. Huston talks about living an "admirable" life or "what we might become if only we had enough courage and faith," and that seems about as good a purpose as one can live. "It is the difficult, admirable life that calls out of us what is highest and best and most satisfying." 

I know there are areas of my life that need cleansing. Areas where I need to forget and clear the space; inner work waiting for my attention and intention. Along the way, I hope to still do some good for others, to use my gifts, and to contribute in some way, but I suspect doing will be a by-product of the being I am learning how to accept and understand. 

Risk of Death
Back to the report on NPR. The report said the study showed a "15 percent lower risk of death" in those who had purpose compared to those who said they were "more or less aimless." Oh, how we would like to believe that. The lines forming to proclaim one's purpose would go around the block, but you know and I know, we all know, there is a 100% risk of death. Purpose or no purpose, we will each die. Let's just be clear about that. 

What is the Purpose of This Time?

Now is the time to stop and reflect.
Now is the time to reach inward and touch our essence.
Now is the time to strip away the many faces of the roles we have  played, and recognize who we really are.
Now is the time to understand that we are spiritual beings having a human experience.
Now is the time to understand that we are spiritual beings having a human experience.
Now is the time to perceive our spiritual dimension--the strong, silent presence of our spirit.
Now is the time to reflect on our lives and recognize the strength of spirt that has been there.
Now is the time to acknowledge that our purpose on this earth is a spiritual one, and was determined before we came here. 
Now is the time to listen to the daily inner whisperings of our spirit.
Now is the time to find out who God is for us now.
Now is the time to mourn our past and embrace the promises of the future.
Now is the time to revisit our retirement dreams and make them come true.
Now is the time to look deep within ourselves and refocus our energies on the goals that are most important to us.
Now is the time to love and appreciate ourselves and others in a new light.
Now is the time to look back over our lives and appreciate the progress we have made.
Now is the time to make friends with our feelings about retirement and other issues in our lives.
Now is the time to search the corners of our lives for unfinished business, and finish it.
Now is the time to look forward to death with acceptance, knowing it is just another door in the progression of our existence.
Now is the time to enter and relish each moment we are given.
                 Creating a Spiritual Retirement, A Guide to the 
                 Unseen Possibilities in Our Lives
                 Molly Strode, pp. 169-170

An Invitation
When you think about "purpose" at this stage of your life, what comes to mind? I would love to know how you would complete the phrase, "Now is the time…" 

Bonus: Here a link to a list of The Best Books on Aging. Well worth checking out. http://www.timegoesby.net/weblog/the-best-books-on-aging.html

The View From Here, a Post by Nancy L. Agneberg

I know it is time to leave my office and head upstairs to the kitchen and begin dinner preparations, but I keep thinking of one more thing to do at my desk. It's not that I don't want to fix dinner. (I will fix a chicken dish with couscous and green beans.) I am just not ready to end this day of exploration. 
     A good chunk of the day has been spent transcribing life review interviews of a hospice patient who died recently. After transcribing them, I will use the interview material to write a narrative of her life. She was someone who, I suspect, would describe herself as an ordinary person, whatever that means. Her resume, if she had one, would not include extraordinary achievements or stellar accomplishments, but as I have listened to her respond to questions from the interviewer, I have smiled at some of her stories and appreciated the glimpses I have been allowed to see into her life. I have thought to myself, "This was a person worth knowing." 
     It is an honor now to receive her life and attempt to arrange her memories and stories into a meaningful format for those who knew and loved her. I assume they will be happy to have this and grateful that she agreed to these interviews, but at the same time I wonder about all that is missing. The depth and width of this woman. What does she really want her loved ones to remember about her?
     I am exploring the idea of forming a group for women who are approaching retirement or are recently retired; a group that will explore issues of this stage of our life, the meaning and the challenges, and the opportunities. (If you live in the Madison, WI, area and are interested, let me know.) In a way this group could be a safe place for doing one's own life review--letting go of who we were, finding out who we really are, and connecting with spirit. In the process of researching this idea I came across some questions posed by the author Joan Borysenko, who has studied and written extensively about women's spirituality. The following statements seem like a good place to begin a life review, launching us into this new stage of life.
*I realize life is both precious and short. When the angel death comes to my door, I will be ready to go because...
*The thing I will miss most when life is over is...
*I have finished with...(Good things and difficulties both)
*I still yearn to...
*In the years to come, I will be grateful for... 
     As I think about these statements and how I might complete them, I imagine a group of women, all of a certain age, sitting comfortably together in a circle, sipping wine, perhaps, and sharing in confidence our stories, the hard learned lessons of our lives, the wisdom we have acquired and our hopes, fears, and questions for the future. None of us have been here before --the view is a new one for all of us. 
    I keep talking and writing about this new stage of my life, and I wonder what "new stage" really means, especially as my 65th birthday is only days away. Isn't this a time of winding down? Of letting go? A time when physical issues, major and minor, are more likely in myself and my loved ones? What exactly is the purpose of this time? 
     Joan Chittister, a wise, wise woman, writes,
     The real truth, I have come to think, is that there is no such thing as having only one life to live. The fact is that every life is simply a series of lives, each one of them with its own task, its own flavor, its own brand of errors, its own type of sins, its own glories, its own kind of deep, dank despair, its own plethora of possibilities, all designed to lead us to the same end--happiness and a sense of fulfillment.
     Life is a mosaic made up of multiple pieces, each of them full in itself, each of them a stepping-stone on the way to the rest of it.
                    The Gift of Years, Growing Older Gracefully, p.xii
     Yesterday was warm enough to open the front door with only the storm door between the inside and the outside, a view I have not had all these winter months. Much was familiar, but at the same time the view felt new to me. Chittister calls these years the "summit-time of life," and also, the "capstone years," and those seem like appropriate terms, terms worth investigating, but standing on the threshold between the seasons, this stage of life feels like A Deeper, Wider View. 
     I invite you to share the view from where you are. 
  

This is the Season, posted by Nancy L. Agneberg

Apparently, it is spring. I have been hearing the sandhill cranes in the morning and actually saw two flying like arrows yesterday. Robins have definitely returned, and crocus and daffodils are appearing. Yesterday,  granddaughter Maren and I went to the Milwaukee Zoo, where it seemed that every young mom was pushing a stroller the size of an RV, eager to introduce her baby or toddler to the sunshine. Maren and I envied the brown bear frolicking in the pool, and we wondered why the polar bear didn't take the plunge, too. True, we could have a blast of winter again, but we have turned the bend into the next season, and any further wintry weather would simply be the acting out of a spoilsport. Therefore, instead of anticipating spring, watching for signs of spring, I better catch up.  Apparently, spring is already here. 

      That's not all that has arrived. This morning I started reading Creative Aging, Rethinking Retirement and Non-Retirement in a Changing World by Margery Zoet Bankson (http://www.skylightpaths.com/) Reading this book makes me realize even more that I am not being teased by the thought of retirement nor am I anticipating the arrival of this older stage of my life. I am here. This is the season, the retirement season. 

     Bankson calls this period between the ages of 60 and 75 a "generative period", "a period of possibility," and because we can expect to live longer than previous generations we have the luxury and the responsibility to explore the question, "What is this period for?" Bankson challenges us to find a new call for our later years. Call, as Bankson defines it, is the "inner nudge to wake up and notice our place in the greater scheme of things...a special way of understanding what we are here for, our reason for being." 

     Of course, the trick is to discover the call for this season. Some people enter retirement with a clear direction. They are eager to put into operation their "encore" career. Others have felt stuck in a job and are eager to do something totally different. Others are weary and need a time-out. Others flounder during this time, aware there is something out there, but with no real idea what that might be. Some have so fully identified with pre-retirement life that it is hard to imagine what this new time could possibly offer them. 
     It seems to me that in order to hear a call, one must get quiet. And then when quiet no longer feels too disconcerting or disorienting, it is time to notice. Stephanie Dowrick in Choosing Happiness poses the question, "What does the eagle see?" What does the eagle notice when he sits in the tallest tree in your loop of life and observes you? 
     I started a list of what my eagle notices about me these days: how happy I am when I am writing; how I am less interested in home tending than in the past; how I am exercising less these days than I was a year ago and that has bad consequences for me; how I am reading less, especially fiction, and writing more; how my days are full and good, no matter what; how I am more flexible and resent it less; how shopping is more about necessity than choice or pleasure; how grateful I am for my family and friends; how open I am to what's next, no matter what it turns out to be, but also how I want to decide what's next.  Dowrick suggests that by noticing, by playing the part of the eagle for ourselves, we are deepening our self-awareness without being self-absorbed and therefore, we will know a call when it appears.   
     I washed the front porch floor today and moved the porch furniture back into its spring, summer, fall location. I look forward to having meals on the porch again and using the porch for reading and writing, as well as greeting the neighbors as they stroll by. It's spring and I am retired, and it is time for new growth and new beginnings.