Re-learning to Read and to Imagine

I did something unusual a few days ago - I read (part of) a book. I’m re-training my attention span for reading, which had become miniscule. With my head in email all day at work, a magazine article was about my limit. Going Alone: Women’s Adventures in the Wild, given to me by a friend who understands these things. It is a collection of short stories, so not too much of a first outing.

Got me imagining. Remembering (more of that early 90’s/early 40’s I talked about in “Getting Out There Again”). Pico de Orizaba in southeastern Mexico. Summit 18,500 feet. What do you think was up there? An iron lattice cross twice as tall as I am and a sizeable statue of La Virgen de Guadalupe. And incredible views and exhilaration.

As I was getting away from that lifestyle, I told myself “I want to do one more climb”. That never happened but the idea never really died, even as my age advanced and my fitness level waned.

I’ve kept up the basics, but one of my priorities for retirement is to regain a level of fitness I had abandoned. I’ve always done better with a reason to get/stay fit rather than exercise in-and-of-itself. Rock climbing, back-packing were always good incentives for whatever fitness regime I was engaging in in town during the week.

I also am in need of an adventure. An “outside the comfort zone” experience. I had been saving flight points for this, not really knowing where exactly. Several months ago I got an email from an outdoor adventure company I had traveled with before: they were running Himalayan trek trips. That stuck. I fanaticized. I researched. I doubted (are my knees up to this?).  November (the primary season) was just too soon. Trips take a lot of researching and planning and I wanted … rest.

The second season - spring, rhododendrons, fewer tourist (something I had usually opted for anyway). I doubted some more. A price deal arose – short timeline. So that last weekend between my last days of work (when I had A.D.D. – see “The Final Run-up” post) – deadline looming, I signed up.

Once on a trip to Chilean Patagonia (highly recommended, by the way) I had a casual conversation with a woman – probably around my age at the time – 41. She was working as a cook on a cargo ship that went from Punta Arenas (where we were) to Tierra del Fuego. That sounded so cool to me. Still does. I soooo wanted to just keep going even further south. Tierra del Fuego…Antarctica. I like to go to places with exotic names - part of the draw to Nepal – “Kathmandu”… “Annapurna” … how can these places NOT capture the imagination.

So, I’m re-learning to read. And to imagine. And to do what I imagine.

Unexpected Emotion

I’m feeling a little guilty this morning. I hadn’t expected that – boredom, anxiety, yes – but guilt, no. I have a long list of to-dos ranging from refilling the hummingbird feeder to completely re-doing the frontscape of my house; doing my 2011 taxes and registering in the federal contracting system. None of these things need to be done today – or even this month. I thought I might get a start on something today, but none of these things are what I want to be doing right now. Now I just want to rest. Read, eat, sleep. I didn’t realize just how mentally tired I was. Am. I can't corral my mind to anything detailed. My brain needs to hangout in a hammock with a cool drink for awhile.

What is the timeline for “getting back to it”? See how engrained the work ethic can be? Hence a teeny bit of guilt. But I’ll get over it. I need to get back to that Vanity Fair article about Jackson Pollock’s mistress’s painting going up for auction.

Getting “Out There” Again

I might need a nap. No, I’m not exhausted from the rigueur of my week of staycation. I went on a hike – first one of any substance in a loooong time. Driving up the mountain (the Santa Catalinas that run along Tucson’s northern perimeter) in the morning light, rain-induced green (green for Sonoran desert mountains anyway) brought me back. Back to when I used to hike, backpack or rock-climb most weekends. 

It was the first half of the 90’s and the first half of my 40’s.  I worked for myself as a contract associate for other lawyers and then as a mediator/trainer and seemed to have more time and more control…although less income. And I had an outdoor adventure partner/boyfriend. We went a lot of places - foreign and domestic - to do these things as well as a bit of ice and technical mountain climbing. As that relationship transitioned to something else and I was working more, I still hiked...much of it alone…and much less often. I knew where I was and what I was doing but when the devastating fires hit the Catalinas in 2003 I didn’t go back for years – I didn’t want to see the apocalypse. And the fire had obscured familiar trails which would have made solo hiking a whole other experience – I’m not a map and compass girl - by  choice anyway. I still did some hiking  elsewhere (mostly in Northern New Mexico - perhaps more about this later) but being “out there” had really diminished in my life.

And these last handful of years, with so much work-related travel, the demands of work  - and buying a house and re-habbing another, I did some car camping and a bit of getting out, but something that was once a big part of my life - and my self image – was all but gone. Although  not dead. I promised myself I would re-gain that part of myself.

So today’s hike was a start - even though it was with friends and a bit more of a chat-fest while going uphill at 7,000 feet, than a reconnection with wilderness. Like I said. A start.

The First Sunday Night

I made it to the art museum yesterday (primarily for the 100 Years 100 Ranchers exhibit – which was stunning http://www.100years100ranchers.com/ )   I also had to kind of drag myself to yoga hour at 4 p.m. – part of a promise I made to myself to make regaining a higher level fitness a priority (I’m taking it gradually. I’m not jumping into “Insanity” workout because, well, I'm not insane…or 10-minute abs or butts or whatever body part).

In-between I read the Sunday New York Times (one of my splurges is having it delivered). Actually READ it. At home. On the couch. In the last several years of working I traveled quite a bit (about 15-20 trips a year – mostly by airplane).  I would save my favorite sections: Style, Arts and Leisure, Travel, the Magazine - you can tell where my proclivities are – and Book Review – I never read books, just reviews of books -  oh, and SundayReview so I wasn’t a complete slacker. I’d bring these with me for airplane reading to bridge the 4 a.m. wakeup to the 5 a.m. pick-up for the 6:15 fight and the first leg until I was awake enough to start reviewing whatever I needed to for the training, meeting, or workshop I was flying somewhere to conduct. Reading on airplanes felt like sacred time – the only place of solitude (especially with noise-cancelling head phones).  It was the only place I could actually focus…sustain attention. I’m re-learning to read though. I’ll talk about that another day.

Anyway, this made for a better-than-usual Sunday. But the real difference was Sunday night. Notably absent was that feeling of “my time” waning and the return to the onslaught looming. In the place of anxiety was…calm. Maybe the yoga had something to do with it.

P.S.: Is it cheating to take an Advil a half-hour before yoga? Hope not.

Religious Experience

It's Sunday. I'm going to turn off the electronica and wait for divine intervention or inspiration on what to do with the day. Oh, wait. I’m hearing something. The art museum in free on the first Sunday of the month. And Yoga Oasis has three different yoga hours this afternoon. Heaven.

Real Saturday

I don’t know….still feels like Saturday…somehow different than the weekdays. Maybe because I went to my usual Saturday morning Pilates class, listened to the usual Saturday radio programs, and, as usual, thought about  going to the Saturday farmer’s market and didn’t….or because Saturday night is, and always will be, different – “date night” even when you don’t have a date. Maybe I’m perceiving things in relation to others and since most of my friends are off it still feels like a regular Saturday. Maybe it’s that I woke up a bit affected by the Friday happy-hour retirement celebration with girlfriends at Casa Vicente - tapas and a bit too much cava (drinking when not driving is dangerous in another way). Or is it that last weekend was still in-between work days and the engrained concept of “weekend” hasn’t worn off (although last weekend, and my finals days of work, seem a world away already).

We’ll see whether the days start to blend together in terms of character or definition. But right now, it feels like real Saturday at my house.

A Few Unexpected Things

1. The time interactions start:

• Retirement Day 1: 8:30 am. Neighbor rings doorbell concerned about another neighbor she hasn’t seen out and about. I was awake but not up (see post: Report from Day One)

• Retirement Day 2: 8:30 am. A retired friend I’ve been emailing calls. I was awake (and up) at 6:30 so no problem

• Retirement Day 3: 8:30 am. Doorbell rings. It’s someone delivering a beautiful tray of cookies and a note from my financial planner. I was awake but not up. (see bullet one)

Apparently the day in non-work land starts at 8:30. Good to know. We’ll see what happens tomorrow morning.

2. Friends call me and we have conversations. In the daytime. On a week day.

3. I have yet to make a list. Other than this one.

Noticing Differences

The Same	Different
It feels like Saturday	There are many of them in a row so its even better
Too much time on the computer	Nothing
Lots to do	No pressure to get it done because it can get done tomorrow (really)
There are things to get frustrated about	No time pressure or big investment so I let it roll off.
Get out of bed every morning	Looking forward to what the day will bring
Look at the clock	Just wondering what time it might be
Social get-togethers with friends	More of them and they are the anchor for time/appointment planning...and they can happen in the daytime.
Take a shower	Not rushing to get to work before it is noon on the east coast.
Listen to NPR	Fresh Air and other great afternoon programming

I better stop before this turns into one of those superficial lists that get sent around. Maybe it already has. Sorry. Seriously though. The real differences are these: no time tyranny, no pressure to perform, no impossible deadlines, no navigating the expectations of others. Simple here-and-now presence in the world. And responsibility for making the most of it.

Report from Day One

I got up at 6:30, ate a small egg-white omelet and drank some green tea, worked out for an hour and a half, came home and organized my filing cabinets. No. I did not. I engaged in an experiment: what time would I get up if I didn’t use an alarm and don’t have to be anywhere. Answer for today: 8:30….after staying up too late (the other half of the experiment) channel-surfing (Craft Wars with Tori Spelling? We are doomed as a society. At least it is better than some of the cooking shows where people apologize for their “huge mistake” - lumpy mashed potatoes or something - in tears. It’s FOOD people. Not world diplomacy.) Then I puttered. My aunt in California called to congratulate me. My mom and my sister called me. A good friend called  - "are you bored yet?" (Ha)  I puttered some more. At noon I was still in my pajama bottoms – but with a cotton knit top – the new “at home wear”?  Lots of emails to deal with…purged my address book. Communicated with quite a few people by email. Got computer burn-out. Did the dishes. Ran some errands (got dressed first, not to worry). Sent off the booking info for a trip I signed up for a few days ago (more on that later). Went to my usual evening Pilates class. Kinda like Saturday. Only way better.

Closing the Door

Two final days of work (yes, I actually had things to do - many "case briefings" to write, lots of odds and ends, and organizing some files to pass on...almost the usual multi-tasking, detail-oriented brain jam that was much of the previous twelve years). Two co-workers took me out to a lovely lunch yesterday and two brought me flowers today....many stopped by for departing congrats and/or expression of envy. I didn’t know what to expect and don’t usually go in for much ceremony, sooooo, this felt good…to leave on an up-note. I will stay a bit connected to some events…one in a couple weeks, so that also made for a “soft landing”.

I sent the last email. Hit “shut down” for the last time. Changed the voice mail message. Many small acts of what was once routine – now a certain form of finality.  I slid the name plate out and stood at the door to my office…looking back in.  Still a desk and bookshelf, but it was….bare. Empty. I thought about the final process of getting there – reviewing and purging paper…and more paper….emails…stuff.  A gradual letting-go, separating. I closed the door. I walked down the stairs and out the front door, which closed behind me…for the last time as an employee…here or possibly any place. It felt…really….good. It felt really… right. And pretty exciting. Now what? Stay tuned (I almost said “Dear Readers” as though I was the Amy Adams character in Julie and Julia) Forgive me. I’m getting ahead of myself.