Flapping and Circling

The other morning while enjoying coffee with my husband, I watched a seagull circling the river in front of our house and flapping as if its life depended on it: flapping and circling; flapping and circling several times until it headed down river. Most times the sea birds and hawks just coast on the winds without a care in the world. At least that's how they make me feel when I watch them. They just gracefully soar hither and thither; so gently and easily. I watched the tips of a hawk's wings that look like spread-out yoga fingers; moving one then another to maneuver in the breeze, changing direction ever so slightly. Watching the birds here by the water is so calming and relaxing for the most part.

But, the other morning when I watched the gull flapping and circling, it reminded me of my life right now while I explore what retirement means to me. Instead of gently gliding on the breeze and just "being", I feel like I'm flapping my virtual wings for all I'm worth while circling the options laid out below and in front of me. What should I be doing in retirement? Does it really matter? When I left work, I said I was going to write and publish a book. I asked for self-publishing software for my computer as a parting gift. Part of the reason I avoid going back to visit my old colleagues is to avoid the question, "So, did you publish that book?" Blogging seems to satisfy my need to be published right now. And, it satisfies my need for immediate gratification. I can't deal with rejection, so my blogs also help me feel successful.

My life really is idyllic, but I still have a nagging voice inside that says I'm not being productive enough. I need more stimulation. I'm bored with sitting around doing whatever I feel like in the moment. Really? Some of my sisters would tell me I'm spoiled. Well, maybe I am. But what does that have to do with the fact that my life choices thus far brought me to this place. It's a great place to be. A dream come true. What do I have to complain about then; spoiled brat that I am? I found myself saying to my husband recently, "I used to be this really big person; out there and living large. Now, I've shrunk down to someone I don't recognize." Could this feeling be merely a self-perception, or driven by outside influences and expectations? I'm not really sure.

I do realize, though, that I truly need a bit more stimulation, so I will explore singing in the community chorus. I negotiated with Larry to shift our schedule in order for me to explore engaging in music. And I enrolled in a course studying my throat chakra: "Speaking your truth with responsibility and compassion" is the title of the workshop. It will incorporate meditation, visualization, movement and creating artwork. I haven't taken a course like this in a long time, and I also see it as a way to meet like-minded "new agey" spiritual women in town. The music will also hopefully get me to take the cover off my keyboard and learn to play it once and for all. So, instead of beating myself up, acupuncture is helping calm my anxiety and allowing me to pursue other goals I set for myself in retirement. I am creating my support network, and am getting ready to head down river into an interesting creative new adventure. Isn't that what retirement is all about?