Photo: Returning from raiding Jeanine's rhubarb patch. Nice view of the new English garden, eh?
"Retirement" some people are calling it, but to me leaving my day job is more of a re-evaluation, a re-structuring of my time at the lake and to ponder "what's next", while focusing intently on being fully present. Here. Why be anywhere else when it's so amazingly beautiful here?
These are times to visit neighbours (and put their forgotten crops to good use, such as rhubarb compote) and feed on their passions for a while. Time to plant that grapefruit seed I found that was already sprouting or to haul rocks from the local rock slide for a special flower bed or to experiment in the garden or to make a giant batch of pesto from the jungle of basil in the greenhouse. Time to visit with guests who wander by and to tell them stories of why we choose to live in such a remote place so far away.
Personally, as much as I've tried to do the sensible career thing, it never seems to be sustainable, for one reason or another. Maybe it's my attachment to this place, an hour away from the city. Or maybe it's my lack of understanding of retirement, seeing as I've spent much of my life semi-retired anyway. I've learned to live with less, be mindful of money being a tool and not an identifier of who I am. Don't we all need something to do that's uniquely ours? A purpose, some expression of joy? Something to keep our energy juicy? I figure if we've prepared ourselves properly, there won't be the dreaded ailments of aging, such as boredom and loneliness. For me, being creative has been my main salvation and salve that gives me meaning and to be able to share this with other questioning and wandering souls is a blessed opportunity.