Cubist Self

        

                                                                    Parade, 1917 – music by Satie, décor by Picasso

       My self keeps shedding and shifting. My roles in life, like life itself, are transitory. I'm in the middle of several transitions and the uncertainty of where I will land and what role I will play there picks at my brain. I feel like "Nude Descending a Staircase" or the figure above dressed by Picasso! In my late 20's I started my own business, in my 30's I became a wife & mother, in my 40's I became a teacher, in my 50's I became a single mother, and now in my 60's, I'm retired, single, and nearly an empty-nester. 

        I'm trying to just be here now. Sounds easy. Except, I'm a planner and goal setter. I'm coming to realize that I need to put myself first. Spirit, Body, Mind, and the health of all three, must come first. I've retired earlier than I planned, by four and a half years. On the scales of finances vs freedom,  there was no contest. I had to set myself free. The world of education and trying to do your best professionally 24/7, and I don't know a teacher who isn't always managing work in their mind in some fashion, became untenable. Ask any teacher you know and they will have their own stressful horror stories to share. I could write all day on what is wrong with our system of education, but I don't want to relive it right now. 

        On the horizon, I must prepare another family house to sell. This one will be more painful than the last. I only lived in Lincoln for 6 years. I summered at Dingley for over 50 years and lived on it year round for a few years in a rental house. A lot of history, good and bad, lives on that island. I can show you the tree that lightening struck half way down the path to the dock. Mom and Zee had been having one of their marathon fights and it only ended because lightening struck the pine tree between them. I can show you the fisher cat's lair where I find beautifully cleaned bones and feathers.  I've swum around it so many times (perfect 5K) that I now all the nooks and crannies. I've circumnavigated Dingley in kayaks, sailboats, canoes,  while my children built a raft out of a pallet that made it very far , and back, out in the causeway cove. I could write a book about the Island, and maybe someday I will. 

        Planning short term and easily achievable goals seems the way to go now. Become well. I've had this dreaded head/chest cold since the night before David died, which was, yup, Valentine's. This is my second day without a fever, at last. Being sick always brings me down because how I take care of myself has much to do with mobility and being outside. When I'm sick I can't swim, hike, or even stay outside too long. So once I'm restored, I need to develop a routine beyond my daily dog walks. A regular rotation of yoga, swimming, kayaking, biking, hiking, mediation and weight lifting are the goals. Last year I went from healthy, to parasitic, to weak, to a popped rib, to school stress and hospice consuming any energy I'd regained. This year I vow to put my health (mental & physical) first and all other business second. Just trying to get my feet under me seems to be a challenge.

        I'm also not very patient. I feel like Fate is putting the breaks on my planning so that I may get into a slower pace of life for the stage I'm in now. When my son asked me how I was going to spend my retirement, I replied, "Work part-time, write, volunteer and be in Maine. Except during Mud Season, I'll take a vacation simewhere far away then each year." Sounds simple. But I have so much work to do to get there. Sell the Maine house, followed by selling the house I live in, and then finding house in ME.  I know, these are problems of the privilege.  I'm grateful and feel the weight of doing the right things. It just all consumes a great deal of time and energy to accomplish. Dingley is only half mine. My current house is all mine. The third house is a phantom or a jewel that I hope will present itself when the time comes. Again, I feel like Fate is telling me to just be steady as I go and the universe will take care of the rest when it's time. 

        I'm working on manifesting the selling of an old family home, finding a new home and new healthy habits/routines to carry my into this next stage of life with grace and grit. My gut says this transition will last at least the next 18 months or so. However, the biggest thing that makes me worry or feel impatient or a need to rush to action is the coming Presidential election.  

        If I were still a literary agent, it would be impossible to know what will sell 18 months to 4 years from now. Will we be living in a democracy, autocracy, or a dictatorship? What sells is fear and desire. As a teacher I tried to give my students tools to learn how to talk to each other. They can text all day, but have trouble, as many adults do, keeping a conversation going when they have a difference of opinion. I feel we all better become really facile with expressing our values, goals and concerns as a populace. If we all just duck and wish for the best, we won't get it. I'm sure I'll be pounding on doors in New Hampshire this fall for Biden. If I don't and Trump wins, it would haunt me. 

        For some reason Erik Satie's piano music has always calmed me. I'd bring it to my room and listen to it over and over while I wrote letters or in my journal for hours as a tween and young adult. It's both melancholy and bright. He and Debussy egged each other further than either would go alone, much like Picasso and Braque or Mozart and Salieri. Today as I wrote this I listened to the below album and I was transported to my girlhood bedroom, a studio in SF and to my former in-laws in Holland. At every stop I was who I am and I wasn't anymore. I feel like we spend the first half of our lives acquiring things and affects and the second half of our lives stripping down to only beautiful objects and our essential selves. Or at least I hope so!