Top of the world!

 

Okay, before anyone says, 'OMG, TMI!"  this isn't a sad post.  It's a discovery post.  I've had some big changes in the past few years, as everyone has.  Some I couldn't control and some I could.  What I discovered is that I could learn from these changes, or stay home and watch a lot of Law and Order reruns.  I decided to get out of the house.

My first lesson was how to be "on my own."  That lesson was more than how to grocery shop for one, but also how not to make the flat screen my best friend.  A common question I receive is whether I will ever date again.  Dating is really down on my list of priorities now.  I had to learn how to make new friends again, how to extend invitations, be flexible and available to invitations, know the importance of small talk (how about those Red Sox, the weather, the movies, books, and yes, that tv show).  I had been living with one person and working in one place for so many years the rut I found myself in was the size of the Grand Canyon. And it was lonesome inside that rut on my own.

The first move I decided on was to take an early retirement.  Some people cheered me on, some thought I would become too isolated.  What the latter didn't understand was that if I didn't shake up my life, I would have become the perfect couch potato, and locked in isolation.  There wasn't energy for anything else.  I had the type of job where I was never off the clock, and never meeting new people or doing new things.  While I appreciate the support my staff gave me through my troubles, the setting and routine was a constant reminder of what wasn't anymore.

So after my initial grieving period when I was starting to come up for air, I also wanted to get out of the house.  I have had the luxury of being able to take that early retirement, and try different outlets for new experiences.  That first retirement year I did a lot of volunteering, but I found that wasn't what I was looking for.  I was often alone doing something the organization needed done, when what I was looking for was company.  I'm being choosy now with how and when I offer my free service.

I picked up a small part-time job as an academic librarian.  It's just enough to keep my hand in my profession, and gives me lots of social contact.  I've discovered the pleasures of group outings through Meetup.com and the Appalachian Mountain Club.  I still have my book club, and we often have field trips as well as our meetings.  We go to museums, see movies and last summer went on an Essex River cruise in Ipswich.  I've discovered the priority on my list is to be a social being, and whatever follows from there I'll just let fall into place. 

My rock through all this has been my family, both through blood relations, and marriage relations.  You in-laws get gold stars for hanging with me.  My family relations are true blue.  I have tried to be connected yet not needy, and I hope I have succeeded.

The picture above was taken on the 86th floor of the Empire State Building.  I had taken the train down to Manhatten on my own.  I can do things on my own and have fun, as well as with others.  I feel right now that I'm on top of the world.  And I'm going to enjoy that feeling as long as I can.

Lighting candles

I was in New York City recently, to visit with a neice and break up the tedium of winter.  The weather was slightly milder than home, and Manhatten has many, many indoor venues to distract and entertain.

One tradition I have when I travel is to visit a Catholic church.  It's silly, as I am what I call a roamin' Catholic, one who has lapsed from the religion and doesn't follow the sacraments anymore.  But while you can take the girl out of the church, you really can't take the church fully out of the girl.  I grew up with CCD classes and mass and no meat on Fridays, and some of those ideas have probably helped make me the person I am today.

I don't attend mass when I visit a church, but I light candles for those who have passed.  Lit candles dotted both my trips to France, where even the tiniest village had the sweetest church.  I take a few moments to remember good experiences with those lost loved ones, take measure of the current moment, and use the few minutes for reflection.  When I visit New York, I stay near St. Patrick's, a large and imposing structure.  One good thing that can be said about Catholicism is the beauty of their churches. 

Wandering around towards the back of the altar one time I discovered a chapel devoted to the Madonna.  It is lovely, small and decorated with roses and thistles in the wood carving.  A statue of Mary is the focal point, and of course, there are candles to be lit.  This has become my spot for reflection when I visit New York; a quiet place in a congested, noisy area.

I'm not alone when I visit on a weekday morning.  There appear to be many that prefer the smaller chapel to the big cathedral setting on the other side of the alter.  All ages are there, and one very interesting type of worshipper.  More often than not, I will see a gangbanger in full colors, tatts and chains and heavy boots, kneeling with his head on his hands, praying to the Madonna.  He kisses the floor as he genuflects when he leaves.  I'm left to wonder where he is going, and why he also prefers the Madonna chapel, and praying to a sweet mother saint instead of sitting in the somewhat overwhelming main church.  I am reminded each time that while we all face unique challenges in life, we seek solace in many ways that are the same.  We have our differences, yet we share many of the same needs.

My New Years resolution this year, as it is each lately, is to be less judgemental and more open hearted.  And sometimes the universe offers me the perfect example.