Thoughts on becoming . . . .

 

(source) 

This year I have determined to live my life with more purpose, more meaning.  I don't suppose that is very unusual, in and of itself, but over the last year, with Covid and whatnot, I felt somewhat like my life was spiraling out of control and some how an entire year passed and was gone. 

There were no books written, no projects finished . . .  I think the entire year was spent just putting in time, waiting for better brighter days. Brighter days which somehow did not really materialise. Like life had somehow been put on hold.

I don't suppose it was really any different for anyone else caught in the grip of this Pandemic. Like most people, I never really thought it would last this long and yet  . . .  here we are! 

So this year I have determined to live my life with more purpose.  I would like each day to count for something. 

 

Then maybe when I get to the end of it I will feel as if I have accomplished something, which really is not a bad way to feel.

Already this year I have done something which I have never done before in my life. Due to a severe lack in rental properties I have determined to find myself a place to live. Now, I have never lived on my own, not ever. Not really.

I went from my father's house to my husband's house, back to my father's house and then to another husband's house, to a rented room in someone's house to my mother's house and then to my last husband's house, and now to my sister's house. 

See, never on my own.  Not once, not ever.  The prospect of being on my own is somewhat daunting and more than a little scary. 

 

I have never totally been responsible for me and my life.  The thought is at once very exciting and more than a little bit scary.  Younger women might find that a bit laughable I suppose, but then they have been brought up in a completely different time and with a completely different mindset. In most cases they have been taught since birth that they can go anywhere and do and be anything they want to be or to do.

It was much different for myself.  Born just prior to the cusp of the sexual and feminist revolution, I was brought up very much to believe that education was for boys and that my job was to find a good man to take care of me and then I was to take care of his home and his family. 

 

Oh, my mother did work outside the home from the time I was about 11 years old, but that was a "job" not a "career," meant only to supplement my father's income.

And then my mother found herself suddenly alone, at the age of 54 and . . .  in that year . . .  battled loneliness, aloneness, and breast cancer all in one fell swoop. I don't think she ever got over my father's leaving her, not really, not even to her dying day.  But she lived her life with purpose, meaning and on her own until near the end, when that was no longer an option. 

 

 

And so this year I have determined to live my life with purpose and with meaning and, unlike last year . . .  to do more than merely exist. I want this year to count for something. My life. To count. For something. 

To that end this week I did something very scary for me. I put an offer in on a house. YIKES! It is a small house, a bungalow and nothing very exciting, but very perfect for me. Just the right size, etc.  and I did it completely on my own, scary, scary, scary. My sister and I went to see it the other morning and it was just darling. I could move into it without having to do much of anything, except move in. 

 

I think this has been the scariest thing I have ever done on my own.  And I almost backed out from even trying.  Made my mind up that it was never going to happen and then some strange creature I have never met before took over my mind and before I knew it I was making an offer on this house.  I will not know until later today if my offer has been accepted or not, but I have been praying about it and I feel a sense of peace. If it is for me it will happen. If it doesn't, then God has something much better in store for me.  I am content either way.

 

But I can see myself here. It would be perfect and it is right around the corner from Eileen and Tim, so Tim could help me take care of the lawn and driveway, etc. But we will see.

I can do hard things. (I keep telling myself that and then I do  DO hard things!) 

 

 

The thought occurred to me last night that this is not unlike what Susan Branch did when she moved to Martha's Vineyard and bought her little cottage, Holly Oak. Not that I am anything close to being Susan, she is so darned talented, etc.  just that there are similar circumstances with her having to begin again on her own and me having to begin again on my own. 

And so I have been nesting . . .  crocheting, embroidering, making lists, plans, etc.  and if it happens great!  If not, I have confidence that it will . . .  eventually  . . . and by that time I will have truly accomplished something at least. And on my own and just for me. 

 

I have begun to dare to dream. And I wonder what it will be like?  This life of mine with nobody really in it to please but myself. To be able to choose and to pick whatever I decide to have in it based only on my own needs and wants and desires. That is not a selfish thing.  I would love to be choosing this life with someone in it to share it with, but life has a way of surprising us and turning out the complete opposite to what we had planned.

That does not make it a bad thing. Not in the least. 

Imagine finally discovering yourself and what you can do and are capable of at the age of 65. A whole new adventure awaits. A purpose-filled life. A life with real meaning and not just existing. A life where finally I can please myself for the most part and me alone. This is something completely new. 

I am flying by the seat of my pants, but  . . .  I am flying, and that's something at least.

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

.° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
˛*Attention is

the beginning of devotion.

~Mary Oliver•。★★ 。* 。 

 

 

 

In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Deviled Pork Chops.  Deliciously built for two, crispy coated and baked on top of lush scalloped potatoes. A deceptively simple recipe to say the least. 

I hope you have a wonderful Wednesday. After all of the storming of yesterday, today is decidedly milder in the +6 or so area.  Th ground hog did not see his shadow here at least, so an early Spring is predicted.  We shall see.  Whatever you get up to today, don't forget! 

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And I do too!