Spring and the Snow Moon
Friday gratefuls: Shadow. Digestion. Alan. Cool nights. Shadow’s toys. The Duck, almost rended. The Chipmunk. Unidentifiable. My nightstand. Gnawed. Puppies, eh? On liberation. And wandering. Tolkien. Moorcock. Britain. England. Scotland. Wales. Cornwall. Ruth and Gabe. Lox.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow running with a nerf football
Week Kavannah: Ratzon. Will, desire, pleasure.
One brief shining: A paw, a lick, a pushup on her two hind feet and her butt Shadow greets me with a full body hug, mouth open sharp puppy teeth snagging my sweatshirt, eyes wide with love.
Several things flashing signs at me. Diane, “Your job is to stay healthy.” After retirement. That way others who need you can still find you above ground. A song as TV background, “You just gotta let go and everything will be all right.” Wu wei.
Began to think about my odd path to this age. Left the work force at 43. Kate, always Kate. Wrote 9 novels. Gardened. Cooked. Cared for Dogs. Did grocery shopping. Kept Bees. A Docent for 12 years. Living the life of a suburban housewife.
After our move to Colorado, I did all the fire mitigation: cutting down the Trees, delimbing, bucking, moving slash. Still shopping and cooking. Caring for the Dogs. Then, Kate. Her death.
Four years later Shadow and I reside here at Shadow Mountain Home.
Never really had that clean break with the work world most folks experience at retirement. My work became my daily life and the meaning, the purpose Dogs, Kate, grandkids. Writing.
Listening to my heart now. What is mine to do? The hermit life (with benefits-friends and family) has begun to appeal to me again. This time as an expression of the fourth phase, the spiritual wanderer, the Fool of the major arcana. Also as an expression of a retreat from my previous world of politics and action. My version of retirement.
I’m old enough. I’ve earned it with a life of action and service, by coping well with serious illness, by having a wonderful environment and home.
A part of me says no. No. Judaism runs, in some ways, across this decision. Rabbi Tarfon, “You are not duty-bound to finish the work, but on the other hand, you have no right to waste time from it…” Using age and infirmity as an excuse rather than a reason.
The activist in me says everything is political. Even this decision because it leaves the playing field to MAGA and the world of the autocrats. If everybody followed my choice.
Yet. I feel the need to take a breath. To lay down my sword and shield, down by the Riverside. To become the Taoist scholar of those wonderful Song dynasty paintings.
Let the hours and the days, the months and the years wash over me. Become. Live in becoming rather than doing.
My heart wants this. Long habit and a felt pressure from the Tarfon’s of this world (including and most telling, my inner Tarfon) pushes against letting go. Letting the world go on, in a sense, without me.