The Wheel . . .
I started this post two weeks ago at the end of July . . .
Does anyone else feel like it's time to take stock?
I'vebeen stuck preferred the old "school year calendar" forever, which means that September has always seemed like the new year to me - and that August is the time to reflect and let go so I can move forward.
I just learned that one of my best friends lost her sister this morning (in July - when I started this post) - her younger sister - to cardiac arrest, and it really has me thinking. I'm grateful for my health. Certainly I need to weigh less, but other than that I'm really in pretty great shape.
So much has happened in my life in the past year, and so much of it has been amazing and wonderful - and yet I feel like I missed the boat on so many things . . . and I've been brought up short - seriously short - by the knowledge that people younger than I am are leaving this plane. Last year, a long-time friend who was younger than I passed away from cancer. There was some joy to temper her loss - it was her passing that put me back in touch with J. and brought love back into my life - sort of like she gave us a parting gift, if you will, and left joy for me as she moved to whatever comes next. But at the same time, I lost another friend of 35 years who, in her grief could not find it in her heart to be happy for the gift that was given to me. My life with J., even though we don't live physically close to each other has been a defining guide for this year, and time is spent figuring out when we can next see and spend time with each other actually in each other's presence. The next time will be at the end of August.
And while we do that, time is passing. This summer is winding down and fall will be here soon. It is my best time of the year, I think. There have been a lot of changes where I work in the past year, and I occasionally find myself wishing for "how it used to be," yet I remain grateful to be employed doing something I like and that I'm pretty good at.
My friend, Michelle, has been watching her beloved dog decline, and I feel like she just got him. And whether or not it's true, I feel like I remember when she got him and it just doesn't seem all that long ago . . . but I guess we've been reading each other's blog a long time.
And it seems like such a very long time since I saw the swans. I saw them one day in December of last year, and I never saw them again. Maybe they will come back this winter . . .
And now - this morning, I pick this post back up. I can see and feel the feeling of being at loose ends in the words I wrote weeks ago - melancholic in their story. But this melancholy that has hung with and around me for months seems to have lifted a bit today.
Maybe I should say that I'm taking steps to lift it. In my morning pages this morning - the first I have written since April - I realized that it's time to swim rather than just float.
This morning I started the beginner's walking program that I might have mentioned here before, to get me back to being able to walk 10k. I used to volksmarch with great regularity, but it's been at least a decade since I've hit the trail at that distance. It's something that J. has said he's happy to participate in with me when we are together. And so it's Week 1. Day 1. Yay Me!
Morning pages. Exercise. And I'm here on the page.
The strokes may be simple ones, but I'm in the pool.
I'm still listening to Todd Rundgren. Enjoy The Wheel . . .
Does anyone else feel like it's time to take stock?
I've
I just learned that one of my best friends lost her sister this morning (in July - when I started this post) - her younger sister - to cardiac arrest, and it really has me thinking. I'm grateful for my health. Certainly I need to weigh less, but other than that I'm really in pretty great shape.
So much has happened in my life in the past year, and so much of it has been amazing and wonderful - and yet I feel like I missed the boat on so many things . . . and I've been brought up short - seriously short - by the knowledge that people younger than I am are leaving this plane. Last year, a long-time friend who was younger than I passed away from cancer. There was some joy to temper her loss - it was her passing that put me back in touch with J. and brought love back into my life - sort of like she gave us a parting gift, if you will, and left joy for me as she moved to whatever comes next. But at the same time, I lost another friend of 35 years who, in her grief could not find it in her heart to be happy for the gift that was given to me. My life with J., even though we don't live physically close to each other has been a defining guide for this year, and time is spent figuring out when we can next see and spend time with each other actually in each other's presence. The next time will be at the end of August.
And while we do that, time is passing. This summer is winding down and fall will be here soon. It is my best time of the year, I think. There have been a lot of changes where I work in the past year, and I occasionally find myself wishing for "how it used to be," yet I remain grateful to be employed doing something I like and that I'm pretty good at.
My friend, Michelle, has been watching her beloved dog decline, and I feel like she just got him. And whether or not it's true, I feel like I remember when she got him and it just doesn't seem all that long ago . . . but I guess we've been reading each other's blog a long time.
And it seems like such a very long time since I saw the swans. I saw them one day in December of last year, and I never saw them again. Maybe they will come back this winter . . .
And now - this morning, I pick this post back up. I can see and feel the feeling of being at loose ends in the words I wrote weeks ago - melancholic in their story. But this melancholy that has hung with and around me for months seems to have lifted a bit today.
Maybe I should say that I'm taking steps to lift it. In my morning pages this morning - the first I have written since April - I realized that it's time to swim rather than just float.
This morning I started the beginner's walking program that I might have mentioned here before, to get me back to being able to walk 10k. I used to volksmarch with great regularity, but it's been at least a decade since I've hit the trail at that distance. It's something that J. has said he's happy to participate in with me when we are together. And so it's Week 1. Day 1. Yay Me!
Morning pages. Exercise. And I'm here on the page.
The strokes may be simple ones, but I'm in the pool.
I'm still listening to Todd Rundgren. Enjoy The Wheel . . .
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