Time To Retire

I have a countdown on my computer. Currently, it says 414 days until I retire. And I remember a time when that number was over double that ... not all that long ago. 

As the weeks and months wind down toward that magical date, I am working hard at keeping my stress in check, because that day also marks for me a day when I can devote more time toward my second career. From the looks of the way things are going right now, that second career may be starting only eight short months after that.  

Free Image by Mabel Amber from Pixabay

And then I might have more say over when I take days off, or how much (or little) I work. I will be able to schedule time for things that - until then - will have been on hold for a very long time. Too long, actually. Horseback riding, golfing, traveling for fun, reading for pleasure, and (best of all) spending time with family and friends will all be possible again. That's the dream, at least. I've missed all of those things, and those who know love me have been very patient with me. VERY. PATIENT. Sometimes I am not sure how they put up with me always looking to dive into my next assignment for school, or with me having to work when their schedule frees up time for them, or with me nodding off when we do occasionally have a visit. What amazing people I have in my life!

It's getting within sight now, this finish line. But it's not really a finish line ... it's more of a starting line where I can walk (or ride, haha) and not run. That will be nice!! 

In the meantime, I need to remind myself frequently that it is time to retire: that is, it is time to schedule regular rest stops on my journey. I have been going at such a break-neck pace, especially since 2013, that burnout is never very far off, and perhaps I need to slow down a bit more. Sometimes, it takes the harsh reality of circumstance to bring me to that place of rest and re-creation.  I hope that I can learn to take the hint sooner rather than later that I need to make time for me and for the things (and people) that/who are important to me. I'm not thirty anymore. Nearly twice that now!!  I need to cut myself some slack!! 

I am so grateful for the ones who know me best and who love me anyway, who take the time to gently suggest that I take the time to look after myself and not run myself ragged. Such friends are hard to come by; I am very blessed to have more than one. 

So - in this time between semesters, I may be looking to reconnect with a few people, and take the time to do things that I like doing. After all, I am the only me that I have. :) 

New Vistas

In my last post, I was about to go to a couple of interviews for practicum placements, and I said that I might have an offer on the table by the end of that interview day.

I did. And I accepted without hesitation!

My university, once I had informed them of the details, was very quick to accept my practicum proposal (12 minutes, no kidding!) and now I am looking at being an intern starting in September 2018. For real. Me.

There is still a lot of work to do before I can get to the first day of my internship, and it will take a lot of hard slogging in between, but in this moment, as I have crested the hill I have been climbing so arduously the last few months, I can see a new landscape opening up to me. I see some of the road ahead. I can almost see what some of the journey will look like. 

Photo "Double Rainbow" courtesy of evgeni deniv at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

One friend mentioned to me, when I was chatting with him the other day,  that after one man climbed Mount Everest for the first time and stood on the summit, he realized that at some point he would have to climb back down again. And that is part of what I'm experiencing as well ... but I also know that I will have help. 

I won't have to go it alone. I will have the assistance of a great practicum supervisor, my professor and practicum advisor, my classmates, my employer, and my family and friends.  Even though I will be living alone for the first time in my life, doing things I have never done before, I will have a support network that I know will come alongside / beneath me and help me to adjust. I'm not worried in the least. 

Funny isn't it.

Next week I will be attending a workshop on the kind of work that I will be doing as a practicum student and the clientele with which I will be working. And then, in the weeks that follow, I will be working with my practicum supervisor to formulate my learning plan so that I can submit it to the university in early June.  After that, I will be taking care of some details that have more to do with accommodations, work arrangements, and transportation, so that I am settled in my "new place" before I show up to my first day at the practicum site. But all that will unfold as it needs to. There is the overwhelming sense that I am doing what I was meant to do - and that events will play out the way they are meant to play out. 

For the moment, I am enjoying the view. And the view, if I may say so, is spectacular...  

Joy - Hope - Peace

Several years ago, a friend at work gave me three little brass-toned Christmas ornaments; each is a single word.  One says "Joy"; one says "Hope" and the third says "Peace."  I hang them up every year on my cubicle wall, among other decorations I have accumulated over the years.  

Two Christmases ago, scarcely two months after our youngest daughter passed away, it was hard to put up those decorations.  It was hard to do much of anything.  Another friend at work decided to honour our Arielle (after first checking it with me) by giving out snowflake ornaments to everyone who came to our unit Christmas luncheon.  Although I don't normally attend such functions, I did agree to go - and it was so meaningful.  Since that time, several people have told me that they put up their snowflake every Christmas and think of me and of Arielle's story.  That touches my heart.  Her story needs to be told, and remembered.

Arielle's favorite holiday was Christmas.  She loved the lights and the colours, she loved the tinsel and the carols, she loved the crowds of people, and she loved all the feasting and family traditions we had.  And yes, it doesn't get any easier to go through our family traditions without her.

Image "Festive Snowflakes" by
Victor Habbick at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I will say, though, that during the holidays, the presence of friends as dear as family does make a difference. It gives us a reason to carry on those traditions and still honour Arielle's memory without becoming too despondent.  She would never want that anyway.  She hated for people to be sad around her.

This year, for some reason (and I have my theories as to why), there was some of that old spark that I used to feel around this time of year - not an excitement, but more like a little inner pleasure as I prepared Christmas gifts and cards for those who are dear.  I find myself looking forward to baking my deep-dish pumpkin pie the night before, and cooking that Christmas supper meal I have planned ... sharing food, friendship, and fellowship with friends and family ... is that joy?  

I also find myself feeling somewhat rejuvenated, since simplifying my life and reducing the amount of stress I was experiencing, de-stressing over a period of the last seven months on a couple of different fronts - and with the reduction in stress and hectic-ness, comes the perspective of hope ... that quiet confidence that all is happening as it needs to happen ... and that the future will be better.  Part of me is amazed that this would be the case; after years of striving to experience hope, it should light upon me like a butterfly once I stopped striving.

What is surprising most of all is the sense of calm that surrounds me at such times; I have noticed it occasionally as I have looked after myself and refused to entertain any kind of performance anxiety.  I noticed it again tonight as I put the final decorating touches on the tree, and then leisurely tuned the television to the fireplace channel and listened to soft Christmas music playing - everything from the Nutcracker to Silent Night.  Yes ... yes, it is peace.

Pervading all of it is an underlying current - one that is growing stronger as time goes on - that growing knowledge that I am loved unconditionally.  It is that love which saturates down into the core of me, where all those insecurities mill around and wreak havoc.  As I am less and less exposed to people, places and things that feed those insecurities, I sense and accept more of that love, and it (in turn) produces joy ... and hope ... and peace.

Relax into it

Every so often my daughter - who is prone to anxiety - gets so tense that she can't relax herself, so she gets headaches and backaches that can't be touched by anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxers or electric massagers. That's when she asks me if I will give her a massage.

It's something I used to do a lot when she was having regular migraines. 

So I get her to sit down in a chair in front of the dining room table, with her arms resting in front of her on the table and her head resting upon her arms. She knows "the drill" - the unspoken request for her to fight her natural instinct to tense up when I start to massage a tender spot. Tensing up only makes it hurt worse in the long run. So she has learned to "relax into it." 

Photo "Oil Massage" courtesy
of samuiblue at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

And the massages take far less time as a result. I can literally feel the knots loosening under my hands and fingers as I work. She accepts a certain amount of discomfort, knowing that when I am done, the pain will be far less than when I started. 

It's a lesson we teach each other. I've been taking her example as I get into a different season in my life, one of waiting. I find waiting so incredibly hard. 

Yet I spend the vast majority of my time doing it. 

Just now I'm in transition, extricating myself from one university program to migrate to one in a different university that (even though it will take longer) will give me a more usable degree when I am done. The process of change is stressful, but already I am seeing myself with more time on my hands, and having that much free time is a bit of an adjustment for me after spending almost every spare waking minute studying. It's too early to apply for the new program, so in some ways I'm twiddling my thumbs. This (believe it or not) is tension-producing. I'm learning ... slowly ... to 'relax into it' and let events unfold as they unfold. For someone who historically has had to know what was going to happen for the next five or ten years in advance, this is a relatively new skill. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax. Good words. 

Good words to remember as this week (Wednesday) we try to find a way to celebrate (and survive) Arielle's birthday. To know that that particular day marks 38 weeks since we got the news of her death. And to take the next breath in. And let it out. To relax while we do it. And then do it again. 

"Relaxing into it" is a lifestyle lived out day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. It's a lifestyle of acceptance - acceptance of people, places, and circumstances. It is a refusal to tense up and stress over things I can't control. It is letting go of what was before and embracing what is now ... even if the now is painful. Or uncertain. Or blah. It's all good. God has His finger on that pressure point and all I need to do is turn my attention to His care for me and the knots of tension disappear from my soul. I can breathe again, move again, laugh again. I can learn to live in that relaxed state. 

And why not?