Fall Samhain Moon
At Barbette’s last week. The usual question. And what do you do? As always, sorting through the possible responses leaves me with no idea where to start, so I say, “I’m retired.” With my hairline long ago fully receded and my beard white it seems like the easiest way to deal with a question something like, “What’s your major?”
Still it leaves me unsatisfied. As if I’m denying the fullness of my third phase self. The problem is there’s no handy hook, “Anthropology.” “Clergy.” “Organizer.” No terms like those for gardener, grandfather, writer, apprentice Latin scholar, eternal student.
And I don’t want there to be. One of the facets of the third phase I enjoy so much is the freedom to move between and among activities without feeling defined by them. Of course, I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to do that for the last 25 years or so, yes, but it feels different post-65.
No easy answer here, I guess. It will probably emerge over the next few years.
