Signposts…
This past week has been a roller coaster ride. Lots of good. Lots of contemplation. Lots of challenges. Lots of tears. As I often do, I was trying to write a blog about the week by making notes and running ideas around my head. I’ve even started a couple but they weren’t coming together. Instead, last night I put this one on paper, so to speak. It may not all connect so I’ve broken it into the different signposts I encountered throughout my week.
Hometown
Last week was the funeral for one of the pillars of my hometown. I chose to attend for a few reasons, not the least of which is her connection to my family. As I listened to the litany of her accomplishments the thought that went through my mind was about how hard it is to measure up to that. And then I realized, it’s not about competition. It’s about living my best life. We are all granted different opportunities and graces. Sometimes it’s what you do with those and sometimes it’s the reality of situation or a chance bit of luck. The funeral was for a woman who would have turned 102 this summer. Basically she was always “part” of my life.
I remember attending a funeral a few years ago and the funeral director (another family friend) had me sit with her and drive her to the reception and then home after. When you grow up in a small town these things happen. Someone becomes a thread in the fabric of your life. As I looked around the church, the same church in which I grew up, was baptized, had my first communion and was confirmed, I drank in the beauty. Yes, there have been upgrades over the decades but at the core it was the same church. It’s a beautiful church, another foundation of my life.
Attending the funeral was the funeral director I’ve known forever (he came out of retirement for this), a man who was practically an uncle, a man and woman who lived down the street when I was a child and again whom I’ve known forever. I sat next to a friend of my mom’s, my grade five teacher. I babysat her children and have always known her and her husband. The funeral was a marker reminding me where I came from as I continue forward in this journey. Driving out of town, I reflected on all that I learned from the people in my hometown . Strong signs to guide me on my way.
Writer’s Workshop
For seven weeks I have attended a workshop in the city. Given that it takes place mid-week and an hour drive away it hasn’t always been easy. There was iffy weather on the first night that I was afraid would impact my ability to attend. Thankfully, I was able to participate each week. I signed up based on a message from a friend. The workshop takes place at a bookstore in her neighbourhood. I hesitated before signing up - these events aren’t free, I don’t mind writing a blog but my other writing makes me nervous, I wasn’t sure about being around strangers and as I said, I wasn’t too sure about driving home in the evening when I arise so early for work. This is what I learned over those seven sessions. There were technical aspects of writing that were new to me or that I wasn’t sure how to use. In that sense, it was like a classroom and appreciated. I went in knowing that I feel compelled to write. I met twelve women who have different lives, different approaches to writing, different desires and I learned so much from that diversity of thought. I am truly grateful for the elements of life that they’ve brought to my own. I have stories/books swirling in my head and not nearly enough time to get them onto paper.
My friends and family are wonderful but I can feel their concern for my desire to write commercially. After all, it’s not easy to get published (unless you do it yourself) and to have people want to read what you’ve written. I think their reticence is based in love - they don’t want me to sink effort into something that will never succeed. After seven weeks in the workshop I discovered that everything I privately wish for is possible. It won’t be easy - what is - but it is achievable. I came out of those evenings believing in myself. I can’t wait to work on my first query letter, even though I know I’ll get shot down a bunch of times. It’s my newest goal! These workshop evenings could be seen as feeding a daydream but I’m taking them as signposts of a direction to follow as I get ready for my next chapter.
Introvert
As I’ve written in the past, COVID brought me back to the introvert I was as a youngster. People don’t often believe me when I say that I’m an introvert. I’m terrified when I walk into a room of people. I do lots by myself but it’s because I’ve taught myself to put up shutters. It’s the only way I get to do things that I want - put up the shutters, go alone and do my best to have a great time. Things that are consistent, such as season seat membership at football slowly bring me out into the open. There’s a community around my seat - all season seat members and after a few years I feel that I belong. We greet each other, chat about the offseason or the game and I truly enjoy myself. I still go alone but with less trepidation.
The last few months I’ve been noticing how many chances I’m getting to close loops. Random meetings with people from years ago in my career journey have felt like circles closing. I expect that I won’t see or hear from most of those people and it’s okay but it’s wonderful to get these opportunities to connect one last time. For the introvert in me I didn’t know I needed these closures but I’m finding they are bringing me little slices of joy in my last six months and I’m very grateful.
I came across the following, “You think you’re an introvert because you like being alone. But in reality you just love being at peace. And you’re actually extroverted around people who bring you peace.” It struck me like lightening. It is so true. I am outgoing with those I love. Yes, I need to recharge after time spent around people but it’s a quicker recharge when those people are the friends who have my back and come to me for support. It’s a two-way street and I am blessed to have so many walking it with me. There’s a lot of trust involved in this, too. There are people who I no longer trust and have lost respect for and they no longer see the inner me. They only see the quiet, “I want to get out of this room” me. They exhaust me.
One of the things I’m most looking forward to in retirement is the first few weeks of aloneness. No meetings. No going to the office (although I don’t go all that often right now). No steeling myself to face the person on the other side of a call. I can’t wait to let myself breathe and settle. Those words fell into my lap at exactly the right time and I believe they will help guide me forward.
Life
As I was driving home yesterday, taking the quiet route through little towns and villages, I was enjoying the music from my speakers. Old music. Sing a long tunes. Remembrances from childhood and teen hood. Easy melodies that soothe. Old time rock that has me dancing in my seat. I love music. Sometimes it brings a tear. Sometimes it brings a smile. Sometimes it brings both. It’s the thing that makes my drive, wherever I’m headed, easier to bear. I have a choice of 21 channels in my car and I flip between them finding my favourite songs. Do you take the highways or do you take the roads less travelled? I love to see the farmers’ fields as they begin to sprout, the burst of colour from spring flowers and trees and the return of migratory birds. Life gives us so many bright spots, if we take time to see them. They do more than help me pass the time. They bring joy and memories and peace as I drive.
One of the towns I passed through has a church that posts words of wisdom or reflection. Yesterday the sign said, “Life isn’t tied with a bow but it’s still a gift.” The words held so much power. I’ve been struggling as I witness some other people’s choices. Choices are individual and it’s not my place to make comments but it’s difficult when you see some of the outcomes. One of my biggest complaints is when people think the world owes them. I have no problem providing support and encouragement but I do not believe that my hard work should be exploited by those unwilling to do anything themselves. To be honest, that’s a whole other topic and not for today. Today, I feel like shouting from the rooftop the words I saw outside that church. Life is a gift. You owe it to yourself to celebrate the gift. To take what you have and share it with the world. If you’re a teacher, no matter how bad it is (and I’m hearing horrible stories about our system right now), remember that there’s at least one of those kids who is going to take what you give and make something amazing out of it. If you’re out of work, don’t stop looking. It’s up to you to push away the barriers. If you don’t find exactly what you want, take something that gets you through. You never know what it might mean - you could make a connection that wouldn’t have been available otherwise. Listen to your elders. Respect and learn from them. While you have to figure your own way, what they share with you is a gift. Their lives are filled with joys and losses. What they share with you is invaluable. Use it as you forge your own path.
Life really is a gift. Both the challenges and successes. The challenges lead to the successes. Don’t sit back and wait for it to come to you. It won’t. Step outside of your comfort zone and grasp it with both hands. The rest of us are here for you.
We all encounter signposts on our journey. Do we see them? Do we pass them by without notice? I’m discovering that the last six months of my career are filled with them. As I prepare to depart, will I embrace my new adventure? I sure hope so!
Rainy, chilly weather is perfect puzzle-time!
There is nothing like the scent and beauty of lilacs in bloom to push away the grey weather!