Friday, July 14th, 2023
To my friends and readers,
I welcome you to my personal ruminations on this grand adventure called Life. When we are young, we believe there is an end point. A goal to be achieved. Even more oddly, we believe that “adulthood” is a state at which one will inexorably arrive.
Not so, on all three counts. There is not end point, not even death. There is no singular goal to be achieved. And adulthood is a state which must be constantly earned - should one work hard enough to earn the title to begin with.
And all of this is okay. Wonderful, actually.
Some people may reflect on “death” in their earlier years. Not myself. As a woman with tremendous energy and enthusiasm for engagement with life on all fronts, I both accepted the limited time afforded to human beings and paid it little mind. I had many decades ahead of me, and so, my time was more easily given in my younger years. And by younger, I include my forties.
Since turning fifty (last October), I have found myself irrevocably and quite naturally changed by the event. Perhaps, the deaths of my parents (my Dad in December 2018 and my Mom in January of this year) had an impact on my sense of the finite nature of each life? Whatever the reasons, and I’m sure there are many, I am now thinking about, exploring, considering and feeling intrigued by entirely new questions and concepts. Bringing me back to my earliest comments.
I find myself surrounded by “older adults” who remain trapped by patterns and habits gained during their childhood, often absorbed directly from their families. The impact of our “forever” inner child on our “adult” lives is striking.
Goals that meant so much, to younger minds, are now weighted very differently. I haven’t yet met a parent of adult children who wouldn’t change something about those years of one’s life. The shock, as one’s last child leaves diapers behind, or one’s youngest child is weaned, is just the first of many shocks that comprise the “bittersweet” nature of parenting. Leaving most of us deeply aware of the many moments ill-spent or wasted on matters which truly didn’t matter.
And, as one’s physical “end point” inevitably draws closer, one is faced with various, tried and true methods of dealing with death. Faith comes to mind, for the faithful, the agnostic and the atheist alike. Is there a God? Is there another life waiting for me after this one? Does it matter?
The concept of “legacy” takes on sudden meaning. After all, what is the point of one’s life, if you leave no lasting imprint on the world? Whether one wishes to be remembered in the annals of history by complete strangers, or to be cherished and fondly recalled for a few generations by one’s children and grandchildren…legacy is a topic worthy of consideration. Maybe.
For today, I am stepping back into my personal Substack, “Our Thoughts Matter.” If you’ve missed me, I apologize. For the past year, a tremendous amount of my effervescent energy and enthusiasm for life was funneled into the creation, development, expansion and maintenance of a small, community newspaper. That project is now over, for me.
Which is just as well, given that I am still deeply grieving the death of my much beloved Mom. When I was younger, she always told me that she’d hoped we would grow into a deep friendship. And we did.
In her final months, I began to read my novel (unpublished, in its 5th draft) to her, and she very much enjoyed the story. And so, this summer, I am focusing on myself. My health. My emotional adventure. My home. And in so doing, I am creating space and openness for myself to be more fully realized, my energy to be freed up, and my time to be redirected toward my novel, The Ghost Lords.
Why? Because writing my novel is a great joy, and while life is about many things, one of them is to make the most out of each day.
Blessings to all of you,
~ March