Saturday, October 24, 2009

Changes are A-Coming

For many months now I have started to feel a shift coming in my life. I've basically been hibernating for well over a year. I realized I have cut myself off from friends and have stayed focused on being at home, my dogs, my relationship and quilting. While I probably needed to do this for many reasons, it is time to dig deep, think about what I truly want, what is good for me and to start the crawl out of my cave. Now that I will be retiring in 10 months, this is even more true and important. My sister, Suzanne, who retired 10 years ago, has aways said that when you retire you need to almost reinvent yourself because your life changes so much. And, it is time I regroup, hang on, let go and take stock in my life. I have let important things slip. My spirituality has suffered. I've put on over 25 pounds. I've lost touch with friends.

Yet, wonderful things are going on, too. Fun things I enjoy and look forward to. I recognize that I have a lot of blessing in my life and am very grateful. I don't feel terribly depressed or in angst, but rather adrift and in need of grounding.
The other day I took the long way home from work. I drove along Lake Michigan. It was another rainy, dreary day. The lake was all different shades of gray and white. The waves, while it was not terribly windy outside, were huge. I was mesmerized. If I hadn't had to get home to let the dogs out I would have pulled into one of the lakefront parking lots and sat there for a while. Maybe because I felt like those waves. Gray, turbulent, pounding on the surf only to be pulled out and pound again. Maybe because I realized that the lake will once again be sparkling blue and calm. And, so will I. This is part of the ebb and flow of nature, on which I based my deepest spirituality on.

Over the course of the next few weeks I will be journaling, blog style, trying to figure things out for myself. Some of you readers have known me a long time. Some only through out quilting interests and for a few months. I would appreciate all of your input while I go through this process.

Life is a journey. I just need to figure out which path to take at this particular time.

7 comments:

sewprimitive karen said...

What a pity you could not stay by that absolutely gorgeous water and think. I didn't know you were so close to the Lake!

Earthbound Spirit said...

Thinking of you, dear friend, and all the changes in all our lives. Isn't it amazing how powerfully the lake pulls us? I drove along Lake Shore Drive for 3 years, and often welcomed brief traffic jams so I could look out over the waves...

Julie-Ann said...

I don't think most of us who live in the greater Milwaukee area realize just how much the lake affects us. Not only weather-wise, but on emotional levels to. Sue and Marty went to the 4th of July fireworks at the lakefront every year for years and years. Now, in Georgia, they say sitting in a parking lot at a strip mall to watch the fireworks just isn't the same . . . I am thinking of hosting a fireworks party in 2010 on the lakefront as it will be my last time to view them from down there before I move. Sigh. Changes.

MARCIE said...

You are so right, life is a journey, and we never stop learning and changing. Just recently I pondered this question of why I am still trying to reach that level of who I am supposed to be. Do we ever get there? I honestly don't think so. But as long as we keep seeking I think we are on the right path.
And that is one heck of a photo! How did you ever get it so big?

Julie-Ann said...

I copied the picture off the web! It just showed up that size - huge!

I agree, Marcie, we always need to be on the journey of self-discovery and trying to know ourselves and grow into better people. Once we stop we get into trouble. People who say they never change are usually people to stay away from!

Anonymous said...

You are so fortunate to have so many wise women friends!
sisterr Sue

Julie-Ann said...

And, a wonderful big sister. Well, not BIG!

Older? Hmmm, that doesn't sound good, either.

Oh, well . . . you know what I mean.