The End of a Year

Like most people, I look back over the past year, I look ahead to the new year. New years are like morning – something to anticipate. Yesterday is the past, and so is a past year. There is a bit of melancholy in looking back as awareness of passing time grows more acute each year but, it is always offset by the anticipation of the future. I don’t know if other people feel like that, but to me there is always an element of joyful anticipation even in times of gloom and sadness. I’ve lived long enough to know nothing lasts forever, but the patterns repeat, and therein lives hope. There is enough change and enough consistency. And I prefer to dwell on hope rather than despair – but to avoid it is foolish.

So, what has happened in this past year? For me, the most difficult thing has been the loss of my closest friend on November 30th. I am not lost because of his death, but just feeling a loneliness. On the other hand, I have rekindled a friendship from years ago that could prove to be a pleasant addition to my life. A door closes. A door opens.

I have also learned and realized a lot about my family – my parents in particular. I found two letters, one from my mother, one from my father. The first was a letter written by my mother 6 months before she married my father. The second letter was one written by my father 12 years later. While the contents are personal and private, what was most important was seeing my parents as people in a very different perspective – such different personalities and approaches to life! I think of the grasshopper and the ant in Aesop’s fables – my mother had the gaiety of the grasshopper but lacked foresight, went along for the moment, and my father was the ant, always planning and working toward the future, but often failing to value the moment he was in. (I’m sort of both!)

In some ways – perhaps in many ways – 2022 was about re-evaluating life and people. As I move more into retirement and into free time, I am less concerned with the connections -the ongoing desire for connections – with people, but more appreciative of them when they occur. It is so easy to want more from others than is realistic with copious free time, and it takes a bit of effort to rein it in. Once done, though, a bit of disappointment – but again, another door opens, and there are things to look forward to doing and experiencing.

For me, life is always a balancing act. There is sorrow and sadness, there is joy and hope. Reality is a harsh teacher, but if you pay attention, there is much to be learned and the subtle pleasures of little things – like the yellow volunteer flower on my doorstep – remind you that the small individual person, event, critter, plant, in the big, vast world has a whole universe within to be explored.

So, welcome to 2023!

Death of a Bird

A couple of weeks ago I saw a fat rat run through the patio. We found droppings along a wall. The exterminator came and put down some sticky traps. A week later . . . a rustling sound under a tray. It sounded like feathers. A pause. Another rustle.

I am a coward, I admit. My husband deals with vermin. I orchestrate the traps or whatever. He came out, and I went in. He wouldn’t let me look, nor would I.

It was a bird, on the ground, caught in the sticky trap.

My husband snapped its neck, and I am crying as I write this. It’s evil to kill a bird. Not too evil to kill rats. I really don’t even like the idea of sticky traps for rats as it is an awful death.

Never again will a sticky trap be placed anywhere by anyone near me. Please think twice an three times before you put them out.

Thinking About Things

 

As I get older, the more I find I want to just slow down.  I am not interested in this experience followed by that one, of rushing here to be able to rush there.  I just want to slow down my life and enjoy it.  This is probably related to simple math:  the older you get, the less time you have.  As a result, you want to enjoy it.

Retirement from an official job and job duties is looming ahead.  Preparations for such are underway.  While a lot of information has been gathered, there are still unknowns – which hopefully will be revealed in the not-too-distant future – so that final decisions can be made.  There is also a potential golden handshake coming in the next year and a half, and if so, I hope the qualifications are in my favor.

I have been on vacation for the last two weeks, and have enjoyed my time immensely.  Each day has been conscientiously filled with things I want to do, with my thinking about what I want to do and why.  I’m an introvert, so it is very easy to get lost in my head and forget to reach outward for human contact, whether family or friend.  Those contacts are very important.  With them, the world becomes balanced and isolation does not set in.

In the past 20 years, 7 people I have known have died, through disease or accident, and few others are seriously ill.  Most have gone in the past 5.  My mortality is right there in front of me.  I no longer feel like I will live forever, like I did just ten years ago.  Even my own health has its problems.

So, yeah, I’ve been thinking.  And doing.  Doing is the key to it all:  action and take in what I have around me.  Savor it.  Cherish it.  Live it.

The Peace of Flowers

The world is a busy place, sucking you dry.  Newspapers are filled with news, from bombing Syria and worries about being bombed in return, to disgust that Congress has allowed the killing of hibernating bears and wolf cubs in their dens.  It makes me wonder what the world is coming to . . . and what people think.  Yes, I live in an isolated part of the world, one which is relatively safe, but it doesn’t keep me isolated unless I turn off the news.  This is where the walk in the woods, in the fields, and exploring the natural world outside the artifice of man beckons.  As California is now in the midst of a bloom unseen in years, I am out there nearly every day, taking in the blooms, the colors of the hillsides, and listening to the birdsong and buzz of bees.  It brings a peace.

As someone who is getting older, I frequently think of death. People – friends, colleagues, family – have died in the recent years. All my earliest childhood friends are gone. Death is something to be considered in this day and age of every baby must be born, regardless, and everyone must be put on life support, regardless. There is something disrespectful about the quality of life all this means. Keeping people alive by artificial means reaches a point, an ethical point, where it is ridiculous. Killing wolf cubs and hibernating bears for sport is equally unethical. Our destruction of the natural world boggles the mind, and the immediacy of pleasure or self-righteousness fails to address a longer viewpoint: what are we leaving behind? Plundered resources, extinct animals, and warehouses of people on life support. Equally, we kill others with impunity. In 40 to 50 years, the earth’s population will double, and we will be in even more dire straits than we are in now. Even within our own lifetimes we see the destruction, but deny it.

And so, flowers. One part of the natural world, fragrant, beautiful, evanescent. If they disappear? What next?