Tangled

“I will have more time dedicated to writing the stories, poems and essays that swirl in my head.” This line was penned in my blog post from November 9, 2018. I had no idea. None at all. There are still only twenty four hours in each day. I was of the mistaken impression that the only time slots that would open to me were those from my work schedule. Seemed a logical idea to me at the time. I’m still in the process of locating that ‘time dedicated to writing……..’  Stories,  poems and essays seem to have sunk to the bottom of the pond like stones. Having been away from Victoria several times since my last shift on February 16, time seems to have been dedicated more to Wilson’s Transportation and BC Ferries! However, I’ve enjoyed more family visits than were readily available to me, so that I’m more than willing to accept.

What I am learning is there is another feeling in this early retirement phase. It is a feeling that is wrapped around, tangled and woven through each day. From awakening to sleep. Body memories that have not yet fully received the message that living life does not have to run at breakneck speed. There is a new order to be discovered. Unless there is a specific appointment time, living life can be done much more thoughtfully. Peering about for changes in habits of a life time that no longer serve. Learning that there are more choices available in time spent on the simplest of activities. Learning to specifically locate this ‘time dedicated to writing’ or any other art (painting comes to mind) by positioning myself correctly. Positioning involves place (here or maybe there), a most optimum time (for me it’s the morning), and the  necessary tools. Should there be other travels to take, formal lessons to be learned or time spent with family and friends, I want ~ and need ~ them all to be positioned authentically. Retirement offers a release from being so very tightly wound and tangled.

“Let go of your old tired habits and plant new habits in fertile soil.”

~ Harley King, author