Identity Crisis

Anchor habits get each day started on a firm footing. Once morning has passed, filled with activities planned for the day, those anchor habits often lose their stabilizing quality. To recognize my personal afternoon anchor habits was part of yesterday’s Plan for the Day.  'Part of my plan…….., is to be alert for what they may be, adjust those of no value to today and keep ones that support this depth process.’ So what happened. Coming into my suite after my acupuncture appointment, I tried. I really did try. Setting anchor habits I returned to growing up lessons, my workplace habits upon arrival, or going to someone else’s home for a gathering. Hang up your coat. Take off your shoes - except at work - that would just be weird. Set your keys in the designated ‘key place’. The easy part was done and then the drift set in. Standing in the middle of my kitchen, with no direction, I surveyed my home. Puttering was the first thing that came to mind, which, I suppose would have been alright. Getting back to one of my projects was a ‘should do’. Starting it in the morning, it was left so I could just pick it up and move on. Finally, my book made the choice for me and my cozy green tub chair with the lovely brown foot stool. An hour, or was it two……………..needless to say, there was something missing. Alertness was one. There seemed nothing to adjust unless it was the order of the hangers in the closet - not a very valuable adjustment. Keeping ones that support the depth process? Nothing. My solution for after today's outing? Slippers. Cozy ones. A rocking chair by a window. A good book. Preparation is the first on my list for daily planning. 

Retirement, that ‘R’ word, suggests those afternoon spaces of time to me. Strongly suggested from the deepest recesses of my mind. Listening to my elders - and now I’m an elder - those spaces seem almost like core beliefs! Yesterday afternoon was like a tiny drop disturbing a glassy surface. I did not want my day chopped in half, as so many other days threaten to be. At the same time, my body was telling me that activity had better be slow. My go-to place is the kitchen whether happy, sad or just looking for something to do. Lying on the cupboard was a lovely little cookbook:  Rose’s Kitchen: A collection of recipes from the celebration of a 60th wedding anniversary combined with a 90th birthday for Uncle Jack and Auntie Phyll in 1998. It was open to Aunt Jessie’s Scones and had been on the corner of the cupboard for over a week. This recipe I’ve used ever since that celebration and most of the time with success. Yesterday’s kitchen foray was not met with the success I’ve been used to. Following recipes has never been my strong suit. I can’t see retirement creating any change. Cooking is a creative endeavour, a true core belief of mine. In this case though, I should have done some substitution research. If I had even remembered that coconut milk is high in fat, research may have been done. Oh my, the scones smelled delicious! But they looked so…so…odd!. The first batch not browning very well. Oven temperature set too low! Barely risen and swimming in oil! I wanted to throw them all out, going against my own advise to avoid such a travesty. We are so attuned to image, to what should be, that our mistake is the worst in the world making disposal the only solution. Hide that terrible mistake! 

The image of the nurse from cap and starched white apron to the scrubs of today has been adjusted with each passing generation. Each change has been asked for, talked about, and researched. The qualities that make up a nurse do not change, merely the delivery of care to those that are ill, in pain or in some way still suffering. Retirement means stepping away from an employer, a place of employment. The challenge is to accept that a specific place of employment is not one’s identity and has never been. My scones, while short and crusty, are still very tasty - buttery and citrusy. Right now I’ve retired them to a low oven. Flaked in half, their soft centres have been turned up to the heat to see if maybe they will make good crackers. And if they don’t, they are just fine as they are.

“The most difficult thing to adjust to, apparently, is peace and contentment.”

~ Henry Miller

Don’t forget!  March is Epilepsy month with Purple Day for Epilepsy on March 26 each year.