My morning tea comes with an inspiring tag. Sometimes a game-changer.
Taking a break for a month long cruise with Marie in January left me in a quandary about what to do next. Not just tomorrow – for the rest of my life. At 83, I’m in excellent health, I have a great marriage and family, but most of my life passions – flying, teaching, skiing, publishing, canoodling, etc. – are behind me.
Although 20 more years of life is unlikely, 10 is a reasonable expectation. And I’d like them to mean something to me … and perhaps to others.
I’ve toyed with two new vocations, but struggle with both:
Writer. For a few years, I’ve been posting tales on clapper.com. The process, although rewarding has been extremely hard for me. My mind works best with numbers – not words. Writing has been difficult, if not downright scary.
Gardener. Though I’ve never even grown tomatoes before, this spring I planted a vegetable garden. Most of the seeds that I sprouted in the kitchen died when I replanted them outside. It’s been decades since I was a freshman and, just like 70 years ago, what I don’t know is frightening.
My angst is palpable – and immobilizing. Enough so, that I shared my struggles with Steffanie, a professional counselor:
“I should be a gardener. It’s right in so many ways: It’s outdoors … it involves physical activity … it provides healthy and delicious food … it’s a great example for my grandchildren. But when I go out to the garden, I feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of what I don’t know.
“I should be a writer. Numerous readers have commented on how much they’ve enjoyed my posts. I can sit quietly and think of a multitude of things to say. But when there’s a keyboard in front of me, my mind goes blank.”
After sharing this angst with Steffanie, she said, “When I hear ‘should,’ I like to think ‘wish.’ Rather than, ‘I should be a gardener,’ think ‘I wish I were a gardener.'”
Brilliant.
For a week now, the first thing I do in the morning is spend some time in the garden. Then I come in from the Arkansas heat with a meager harvest and fix a cup of tea. I still don’t know what I’m doing. But I turn to the web and learn a little more. I’m not a gardener yet, but I know more than I did yesterday. And the strawberries I brought in for breakfast were delicious.
And as far as being a writer – this is my first post in months. And I’m looking forward to more soon.
I didn’t know you had all of this in writing. You always surprise me. I’m so happy that we got to really know each other in this time in our lives. You and Marie are dear friends and I hope we all (old gang) get to be with each other at least one more time. My email is on your list now.