Category Archives: Sabbatical

Something MORE

16 Thursday Aug 2018

Posted by in Connecting the Dots, Dreaming, Gratitude, Grief, Making progress, Sabbatical, Transformation

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Have you ever felt SO-O-O excited and scared and nervous and sure all at the same time? That’s what I’m going through right now. Oh, it’s rather fabulous to be me right now! It’s only taken 60 years for me, and it’s only been the last year or so during which my potential is being revealed.

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Remember the Personal Sabbatical I gave myself – one year to figure out my life, the year after the year after Kevin died? That was nearly three years ago. The first year after he died, I kept on working and trying to fit back into my old normal life, which was impossible. The job wasn’t living up to my expectations anyway, and I was smack-dab in the middle of mourning and grieving. The advice I kept getting was “don’t make any major decisions for one year.” It turns out that was good advice…for several reasons, but mostly because I was completely discombobulated and didn’t trust my own judgment about future decisions that would be needed to be made.

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The second year was the year of the sabbatical. I thought I could sit quietly and wait for God to call me on the phone and tell me what to do next, where and how to do it, and who to do it with. Instead of giving myself time and waiting for that call, I quickly (too quickly I think) started my own consulting biz and distracted myself from the grieving process. I listened to well-intentioned friends guide me back to their version of solid ground. What I really wanted to do was float and fly and drift for a while, but still not trusting myself, I let myself get involved in something I couldn’t really put my heart into. My heart was already busy, you see. That year flew by. So I agonized a bit about going back to work, getting a real job. In the end, I decided I needed another year.

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The third year that call still hadn’t come. I wasn’t any more clear about my work direction, but I was finding myself. I didn’t know if I had ever – in all my life – really known myself and committed to ME. I figured this out when I discovered that I hadn’t  really been happy in my life. Content, yes; satisfied, yes; accomplished, yes. But happy? I felt like I had sort of fallen into my life and hadn’t deliberately planned it out or said “I want this, and then went for it. So when people said to me now, “What do you want?”, I didn’t know.  I was frustrated that I didn’t know because I felt like I should. I felt guilty for not having figured it out sooner.

It was at that point I started my real grieving. Losing Kevin was one thing; losing myself was an extension of that. But losing our dreams when I didn’t have any of my own to plug into play was a different kind of sadness. I knew in my heart that his life was about him. Now, I had to face the reality that my life was about me, and I did not have my own dreams, my own plans, my own vision.

However, I had a new awareness that even if I wasn’t exactly happy, I certainly wasn’t unhappy. I was okay just as I was. In fact, I was getting happier than I could remember being, and I knew in my heart of hearts that there was something more waiting for me. I didn’t have to go in search, I just had to be ready. So I started to work on ME instead of working at a job for money. The pay was nil but the benefits are great!!!

Because of my philosophy about life after life, and that life goes forward, and that our children are Life’s longing for itself (thanks, Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet), I decided to stop being the grieving widow. Yes, I did just that – I made a decision to stop.  Besides, I was only doing a mediocre job at it anyway. Instead, I started to study my life and figure out what could make me happier, what events or people had influenced me in childhood and beyond, what forks in the road had I taken that made a difference to me. Then I talked to people who knew-me-when. My sister Peggy is only a year younger than I am, so we had a lot to talk about. My parents are both gone, but I talked to an aunt who was around all of my childhood. I talked to friends I’ve had for much of my adult life. I talked to my kids, too.  And I read dozens of old journals, books, magazine articles and blog posts, listened to music, watched movies, met new people who didn’t know me as a child or mother or wife.

I started a different kind of journal that has turned out kind of cool. I drew a family tree of sorts (more of a diagram with labels) and pasted in pictures of my mom and dad from when they were young and again about the time I was born, up through the years. I added pictures of me from infancy to today. I included pictures of my husbands and my kids as youngsters to today, plus my grandbabies. Then I described each person, somewhat objectively based on my “research.” Finally, I  followed what is the commonly known as the Fourth Step in AA, but I used the Adult Children of Alcoholics model, to do a “searching and fearless moral inventory” of myself, my parents, and my life then and now.

The more I opened myself to what I was discovering, the more light bulbs clicked on, the more puzzle pieces started to fall into place, the more the past came alive. I started finally to make sense of my life with a 10,000 foot view (or 60-year telescope):  why I am the way I am, why I do the (some of the) things I do, what my values are, how I stored my feelings, what behaviors have changed, the results of decisions I made. The good news is that as I began to understand myself, I fell in LIKE with Me and we became great friends! Slowly over the last year, I have been letting go of old unresolved hurts, feeling old feelings and saying goodbye to them, learning to be kinder and gentler with my new BFF, Me.

It wasn’t an afternoon at the beach, to be sure. I laid the cards on the table – really, I made up  index cards for my feelings – and I played them one by one. Abandonment. Fear. Shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. Betrayal. Loss. Insecurity. Anger. Love. Confidence. Hope. Safety. Pleasure. Inspiration. Excitement. Smart. And more. I would pick up a card and question myself about when I had felt that. I would try to remember a childhood experience related to that emotion. Many times I was unsure of what that emotion felt like; I had learned too well how to stuff it away, so identifying it and getting comfortable with it was a process, like defrosting old mystery meat so I could decide to cook it or throw it away. Fortunately, I was able to let go of many of my frozen feelings, which in turn lightened me up, which in turn made me happier. It was like Mario Bros. and I was jumping over the trolls and taking elevators to higher levels. Who knew this is what life was supposed to be about?!?

I still have to sit with my feelings and reflect by replaying old scenes, which now is a 60 year repository to go through. I have learned that living is truly an art; there is no one right way to do it. Social acceptability is worth less to me than it used to be. Praising myself and affirming my choices and decisions is actually more fun than I thought it would be.

I’m not done yet. But I know there is Something MORE for me yet in this lifetime. I was asked yesterday if I ever wish I could have Kevin back again. The obvious (and expected) answer is Of Course! But the courageous and honest answer is, Maybe. I have changed a lot in the past four years, and right now I  seem to be in a fast-forward phase of growth. Would he come back as he was then, or would he, too, have changed from his experiences wherever he is/was? I am not ready to really think about that too much, since it’s such a hypothetical question anyway. I’ve moved on, truly, madly, deeply. And I know I have more moving to do.

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Freedom of the Open Road

09 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by in Dreaming, Gratitude, Making progress, Sabbatical, Uncategorized

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The gas gauge indicated there should be half a tank of gas, on a truck that that has about a 25-gallon tank. Yet, the “Low Fuel Level” message lit up. A wind gust buffeted the side of the camper. Although finding a gas station would undoubtedly lower my stress level, still we sat still in the line waiting for the emergency responders to clear the roadway from of the semi-tractor that had jack-knifed ahead of us. There was no telling how long we might be there, and the need for air conditioning was competing with the need to avoid walking when I ran out of gas. Such was the dilemma of that moment.

Wouldn’t you know it? I made safely to a gas station not long after that, and I gave my thirsty truck a big (BIG) drink of fuel. I wasn’t in a hurry as far as the clock was concerned, and we were on our way again shortly. But then the Check Engine light came on, and at the next exit ramp, we were off again to figure a plan of action. Luckily, there was a truck stop with a 24-hour maintenance shop. Except they only serviced big rigs. However, they referred me to a 24-hour wrecker and auto repair shop nearby. Tommy, the technician, guessed it was a loose fuel cap, and hooked up a sensor to the truck’s computer. Yep. A quick reset, and we were on our way once again.

By the way, “we” is me and three dogs – who are unsurprisingly useless in a crisis, but at least they didn’t cause any further stress by howling and growling. They were much more patient than I was, thankfully.

This was the second leg of my adventure. I spent the first day traveling to Elkin NC and survived a wicked thunderstorm in 5:00 Friday night traffic in Winston-Salem. Yeah, I know, good planning on my part, right? Anyway, I had an absolutely wonderful time Saturday on the Blue Ridge Parkway, revisiting Blowing Rock, and getting the feel of my camper and truck on a cross-country trip. So making it through Nashville’s spaghetti system of interstate interchanges was done by a fortified driver.

I was relieved to make it to Memphis, anticipating Graceland’s tour scheduled for Monday. It was too bad some jerk parked his truck quite close to my campsite, making backing it and setting up harder than it should have been in the dark. But two women from Ontario, Canada, Dawn and Louise, were very helpful, so all was right again in the world. (If their names had been Thelma and Louise I might have had second thoughts about letting them guide me.)

The next day would be a long-awaited visit to Graceland, but as I finally laid in bed that night, my mind was filled with thoughts about how I was living out the Solowingnow name I had given myself. Of course, we are never fully alone. I did have my dogs, but I also am certain I had divine help in the form of angels helping me along the way. How else do you explain that I never once had a close-call with merging onto interstate traffic because the lane was clear a mile back? Or that I made it to a gas station in the nick of time, and that I found not one but two 24-hour service stations on a Sunday night? I think we often think we are alone because we don’t see anyone else, but I was not unaccompanied either physically or spiritually.

Other thoughts also kept my mind entertained for a while that night. I remember thinking that Kevin would have loved this trip. He would have loved the scenery, the challenge, the upcoming sights to see, the freedom of the open road. And then this bright thought occurred to me: as much as he would have loved it, I also loved it. I promised myself right then that I would start now to put myself first. It is all well and good to think of others, but my first responsibility now is me. I can invite his spirit to come along for the ride, but the realization that it is indeed an invitation means that I have completed another phase of adjustment toward this new life I am living. I am no longer waiting for it to be my turn; I am claiming my place at the fire of the strong, brave, wise women of the world. I have my own stories to tell now, and this trip is just one more collection of memories that comfort me.

I am blessed – and I know that I am blessed – to have this opportunity to travel. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as “they” say. I have been to the ocean, to the mountains, across the prairie. I do not have to choose one over another. That is freedom.

 

We go where you go, Mom!
Blue Ridge Mountains in NC
A Shriner’s parade welcomed me in Blowing Rock NC
Why, hello, Elvis!
Oklahoma – last stop before New Mexico
My home in Santa Fe for a the next while

Here are some sights along my way so far. More to come as I settle in.

Moving on…with your help, please

02 Tuesday Jan 2018

Posted by in Gratitude, Grief, Sabbatical, Transformation

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This Solowingnow blog has been an integral part of my expression of grief and the healing that is ongoing. I started it just over two years ago, which was then one year since my husband Kevin passed away. I got that familiar advice: don’t make any major decisions for at least a year.  So I waited, and then one year to the day I quit my job and started a personal sabbatical to figure out the rest of my life.

That year turned into two, and now I have decided to declare my sabbatical official over and done. It’s the start of a new year and it seems the perfect time for a(nother) fresh start.  I never quite got that Flash of the Blinding Obvious about what my passion is, what I should be doing with my life, but I am definitely moving on. I have figured out what my next thing is, for now, which is to continue Solowingnow in some form, in addition to co-sponsoring an Author’Academy to learn and share what I am learning about writing, publishing, and selling myself as an author. An Information Meeting will be held next week, with the first of 8 classes to start in February.

Your support and encouragement has been amazing, and I am grateful for that. I think it must be a divine sign of some kind when what you do to help yourself ends up helping others. This blog was (is) my outlet for processing my grief, as well as saying out loud  my reflections on the changes going on in me and around my life . For example, it turns out that I had past, unresolved grief that needed to be dealt with, too, and I appreciate how fortunate  I am to have had this time to do that. I have learned a lot about who I am, why I am the way I am, what my default reactions tend to be, how to feel my feelings and let them go. Most of all, I have let go of the pieces of the old me and my old life, and I have opened myself up to the new me and the new normal.

With that in mind, I am asking for a favor, which is for you to help me figure out how else I might better help you.

Please take this short 2-minute survey to give me your ideas. Click here.  I will leave it open for one week, and on January 9 I will compile responses. Shortly after that, I will post my plans.

Thanks so much!

 

Yes? No? Maybe?!!

14 Thursday Dec 2017

Posted by in Dreaming, Grief, Sabbatical, Traditions, Transformation

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It MUST be true, since it is my own experience that not every “yes” is a good answer, and not every “no” is a bad answer. Tyes_no_maybe_white_dice_1600_clr_2630his  post is about the past month, during which I found myself distracted by opportunities, reminded by anniversaries, and presented with new partners. In the end, doors and windows keep opening  while I’ve been busy closing others.

When I left my job two years ago, it was my intent to take one year off of work to figure out what the rest of my life was going to be about. I didn’t know if it would really take a year, but that is what I thought I could afford..in terms of money but also in terms of social acceptability and self image. Ha! It actually took me two years but the doubts are now just fleeting thoughts. I’m ready to step off of the edge of this cliff and make some changes.

The month of November was the watershed. I had been wishy-washy about so many things over the past two years, trying to be open to new ideas, giving lip service to resistance about staying in my same old lane, yet keeping that safety net in place to the point it became my default Easy button. I dipped my toes in the water all summer long about going in a new direction, and now I’m jumping all in.  The “funny” thing is that my decision is finally the culmination of what I even said I would do two years ago but apparently was not committed to, writing a book about my grief experience.  I say “funny” because I have not felt much like laughing; in fact, have done a lot of crying and whining and wallowing and avoiding. This blog was my way of testing the idea.

So why now? Well, November is, first of all, the anniversary of when Kevin died. It’s also when his birthday was. His death created  an opening for me to once and for all give up the obligatory life I had been living (by choice, I admit freely), and live my bliss, so to speak. But I had no idea what that was. Or rather, I ignored the idea that I could really do what I had long fantasized about (at least subconsciously). That’s not the same to me as what I’m passionate about. I kind of hate that concept – find what you’re passionate about and do it! I was deceived into thinking it had to be ONE BIG THING that I was so ga-ga over that it was indisputable and very obvious what it was. But I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.

Also, November brought me another crushing blow when my daughter was unable to carry out a pregnancy. It maybe sounds shameful because I have other grandchildren, but for some reason, this one grabbed hold of my heart in a way the others didn’t. I was considering – seriously considering – packing up and moving to the other coast to become the grandma I wasn’t yet. This loss also reinforced for me  (how many times do I need to be hit upside the head????) how fragile life is, what a short time we have on this Earth, and how imperative it is to do NOW whatever it is I can’t figure out I’m supposed to do. This was the first week of November.

Kevin died on November 23, but it was the Sunday before Thanksgiving. This year Sunday was the 19th, so I managed to now activate my sadness genes for an extra 4 days, and then keep the pity party going through his birthday on the 30th. By then Mercury went retrograde, making my life  shmush tightly until I burst out in anger, asking for some help to get clarity once and for all. Finally, I forced up some answers.

A woman I met more than year ago but whom I hadn’t followed through with on a book plan was open to meeting with me again. After a couple of meetings, I felt that it was time I took a risk and put myself out there for something different than the standard fare that is me. And she said yes! We are going to partner up on a project.

By now, you’re probably wondering what in the world I’m talking about? It’s books. Not just my book, although that is on the horizon. It’s how books get made, the road from writer to published author. I used to consider that among the things I kept with me from move to move to move were books on leadership and public speaking, so that must be my thing. What I failed to see is that I keep books, not just the leadership and speaking  kinds but all kinds of books: different genres, buying them here and there, giving them away as gifts, using my library card regularly.  I love to read. I love books. If I have a collection of anything, it’s books. Yes, I have a kindle, but I love the paper, the touch, the notes I make in the margins. All things books. I even know people who have written books. AND I had a conversation with another friend a while back about her idea to set up a publishing business with her sister.  Which is to say that all the dots have been floating around but I couldn’t connect them; until now.

I actually started writing my first book so long ago I can’t remember when, except that it was during the First Husband phase, which means probably 30-40 years ago. I only did two chapters but I still have it  tucked away. Written longhand on a legal pad of yellow paper. I have since had four articles printed in trade journals, the first back in 1988 or 1989, the most recent one this past summer. I’ve even been paid for some writing. So I’m already a writer aside from this blog, and legitimately published. But I want to know more. I want the peek behind the curtain. I want to explore the world of writing and publishing.

Today I was asked about what it is I do. Without forethought, I responded “I help people help themselves with their writing and public speaking.” And I finally felt like I knew who I was. It’s been a long time coming, this decision – or is it just an acknowledgement? I know now that this version of me has been here all along, just buried so far down under the roles of daughter, and mama, and wife..sister..friend..employee..

And wouldn’t you know it? I have been sitting on a chance to do more court work. A proposal is  due tomorrow if I want to bid on the work, but I just can’t get excited about it. The money would be okay but it’s not all that great, and there are a few other detracting elements, like having to travel regularly, getting a supplemental business license, and giving up my rights to the final work product.  It’s an opportunity I would have jumped on in the past, but now I realize that while it’s something I could do, it’s not something I want to do. I’ve just learned this, too: Every “yes” is a “no” to something else. (Kevin Kruse, www.15TimeSecrets.com.)  I’m saying no to that proposal.

So November came and went, bringing with it old reminders and new lessons. Mercury went retrograde and brought with it some shade. Distractions tested my resolve, but opportunities helped me get clear on what I DO want, not just what I don’t want. It’s taken me two years of pushing, but I finally figured that out. And the time it has taken to do all this figuring was the gift from the grief I endured so I could learn to let go of the past, craft a new normal, and open myself to receiving the next part of my amazing life.

I’ll end with photos of two  vision boards I made for myself nearly a year ago, with the goal of manifesting my future – the one I couldn’t see, that I struggled to find. I couldn’t even interpret these then, but I can see now how they were showing me a way. I made 7 boards in about a one-week span, and all I was looking to include were things that resonated with me, even if they didn’t quite make sense. It’s  now crystal clear. visionboard2visionboard

 

 

 

Sabbatical v. Marching

23 Monday Jan 2017

Posted by in Dreaming, Gratitude, Grief, Sabbatical, Transformation

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This past weekend, January 21, 2017, there was a significant demonstration of solidarity for human rights, not just in Washington DC but across the USA and around the world.  It was a focused time to think about what really, really, really matters, and to do something about it.  I had 2 nieces, 2 sisters, 2 granddaughters, one daughter, and several friends attend in Washington DC, Los Angeles, St. Petersburg FL, Fargo ND, and even here in Williamsburg…these are the ones that I know of.  I did not attend, and I’m not even sure how I feel about it after the fact….I don’t regret not attending but I am very proud of those who did.

I stayed away deliberately, because I don’t like huge crowds and, frankly, I was concerned about it turning ugly. The criminal protests and damage that was done on Friday for the inauguration was deplorable. I also don’t attend concerts because of overcrowding, and the anticipated gridlock on the interstates and city roads also was a deterrent. It seems to me that my preference for solitude is growing, and that too is food for thought. I am comfortable with my choice and I am comfortable with the choice others made. That is one of the benefits of living in the USA – the right to make these choices for myself.

It’s not that I want to have others speak for me, or that I am unwilling to stand up for what I believe in. In the past, this Mama Bear has been known to not only defend but to attack priests, the medical profession, family members, bosses, and even basketball coaches, among others, when I felt thwarted, threatened, or demeaned. It’s just not my style if I have other options these days. The option I chose this weekend was prayer, for those marching, as well as for our country and the people in charge of it. I even attended church on Sunday, which those who know me will be (pleasantly?) surprised about, and then several of us talked about the marches for a few hours afterwards. One had been to DC and two others had participated right here in town (which I hadn’t known about). No judgments were made on either side; it was a true time of simply sharing experiences.

I am also proud of those I know who did go. I got tears when I saw the pictures of my daughter and granddaughters dressed in Superwoman and Wonder Woman capes, holding signs and smiling. They are learning that they have a voice and are using it, and that they are not alone. I was happy to see my nieces also taking risks and making statements with their clothing and signs to stand up for what they feel strongly about, not to just attend because it was a thing to do on a Saturday. My sisters are on vacation but still took time to join in a march near where they are. Making time for what is important, instead of making excuses for what is inconvenient, is a valuable skillset we can  all learn from. We all do what we can, when we can, with what we have, in our own ways.

What I’ve been thinking about is how I took the past year as a sabbatical to recalculate what is important to me now. It is too easy to get lost in the everydayness of our lives, to stay on autopilot because we don’t know what else to do, to wait for a better time to do what needs to be done.  I spent many months thinking about my values, religious, political, and otherwise, and I still can’t recite them, but I feel more whole for having gone into the weeds and through the vast fields of doubt and uncertainty to find myself again.

Going within, taking the time to do this, relearning how to take care of myself, and coming up with a plan for being true to myself has been a priceless opportunity for me. I think everyone should take a sabbatical to do this because a single-day march, even for a cause as big as this one, is not enough to sustain new thoughts and ideas. We need action, planned, deliberate, sustainable action. Maybe this is where I can help. We have not begun anything new yet; we have declared the ending of what was. Now is the time to prepare for a new beginning. That is what my sabbatical did for me. It helped me let go of the old ways, the old ideas, the old relationships, the old dreams, and it gave me time to process the change that had occurred and ushered in the necessary space for rethinking these ideals. I am just now sprouting a new beginning.

Holiday spirit

09 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by in Sabbatical, Uncategorized

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There used to be years when I had all my Christmas shopping done and packages mailed by the first weekend in December.  The cookies baked while Christmas music played. I put up Christmas villages and multiple Nativity scene displays.  I decorated every room in the house; I even had Santa shower curtains and rugs for the bathroom!  I don’t think it was just because I had kids living at home, or family coming to stay for the holidays, but that might have had a little to do with it.  That has changed.  Last year I was planning to go be with my kids out of state, so I limited what I put up, but there was a small tree. I still wasn’t really in the mood to celebrate holidays, even though I had started my sabbatical and thought I’d have all the time in the world to enjoy the season.

This year I planned to change that, except now I’m going to go to the kids again. And I have this dang business to run, and a Showcase Speech totable prepare for a Speaker’s Academy I am enrolled in.  I did take down the fall decorations but they are all on the table patiently waiting for me to actually put them away.

That doesn’t mean I have done anything, but just that I haven’t done much compared to what I … want? need? like?  I just can’t quite find the peace I used to enjoy during this season, even amid all the hustle and bustle and baking.  So far, no tree but there is a Santa, some reindeer, and a few nutcrackers. Santa is not in jail, by the way, he’s peeking out at everyone who comes in the front door!

All is not lost, however.  Some traditions remain, if not intact in their entirety.  The reindeer with Santa I have had since my days living in New Mexico.  I got them at a craft fair in Albuquerque at least 20 years ago, and I just love those wooden little guys. They are like a puzzle, with pieces that have to be put together.  I remember the first year Kevin saw them, and he laughed because apparently I had been putting the legs on wrong. I thought there were two matching sets, one for each reindeer. It turns out one is front legs and one is back legs, so I had given one deer two fronts and the other got two backs!  Forever!!!

The nutcrackers have a story, too.  On the bottom left, the bandito, and the soldier just up a step from him, I bought in Germany in 1977.  I gave the bandito to my dad for Christmas that year, and the solider went to my Mom.  Now that my parents have both passed away, these have made their way back to me.  The other chubby ones further up the stairs I only bought last year here in Williamsburg.

I have boxes (big boxes) of “themes” like this. I could open my own small Christmas Mouse store, I think!!! One year I might just put up snowmen, for example.  This year it’s nutcrackers.  I also have different kinds of decorations. Once I married Kevin, we used to put up 2 trees each year. His was a South Dakota tree with wooden animal ornaments, rustic bells, “barbed wire” garland, pheasant feathers, etc.  My tree is usually picture ornaments of everyone in the family.  Kev and I also collected a special pewter ornament each year, with a single word or phrase that summarized that year. One year it was Mr. & Mrs., and the year Layla and Isla were born, it read Grandma & Grandpa. Another is Pierre Pressure, and it was followed by Pierre Pleasure; that was when I moved and he stayed in Brookings, but then he joined me after Ethan graduated high school. There is Honda Highways, when I got my motorcycle. I have a Nativity that was handmade and was a wedding gift the first time I got married almost 40 years ago. It’s kind of ugly, in fact, and the pieces aren’t proportional, but I am grateful for the fond memories it evokes of George (the one who made it), the joy of my early days of married life, and what it was like to be 19 with a husband and baby.

One thing I used to love to do at Christmas time was make time to go to local concerts and enjoy the music.  Right now I’m listening to a CD of South Dakota Acoustic Christmas Band’s annual show. I think I probably saw them a half dozen years.  I have a CD from a Tonic Sol Fa concert I took my mother-in-law to in Brookings one year.  That’s one is on deck for when Acoustic is done. And so last night I heard about a performance of The Ford’s Colony Dance Band, who would be playing big band-style Christmas music in the library’s theatre.  It was 90 minutes of wonderful uplifting fun.  I’m so glad I went. (No CD’s for sale.)

My traditions are sorta-kinda out the window these days, but I’m grateful that bits and pieces of them are still tucked away in my heart.  I guess I’m proof that that the only certainty is change.  And since life goes forward, not backward, I have to agree it’s okay. I think I might put away the fall pumpkins and hang a few lights outside around my door later today when it warms up a bit. I might even try and do some Christmas shopping. Heck, I still might decide to put up a tree!

Journaling, again

29 Tuesday Nov 2016

Posted by in Grief, Reading, Sabbatical, Traditions, Transformation

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I haven’t found much immediate comfort when I am in the act of writing in my journal, but I do love to go back later and read whatever I wrote.  I guess it’s a good thing when you think your own life is kind of interesting!  Today is a day for that – the rereading. A few days ago was the 2nd anniversary of Kevin’s passing, and tomorrow would have been his 57th birthday. I still miss him like crazy.

For about the first year after he died, I kept a journal using the guest book from his memorial service. A blank page, though, is not my style.  I could fill it up (and then some) once I got going, but getting started is the hard part. Like many things we want to do, I suppose.  Some days take up a paragraph but some are several pages, and some days I didn’t write at all, and the rest of the time, I kept a factual record of what happened more so than a record of my feelings.  Still, it is good for me to see how much has changed, in me, in my world…or not.

What works better for me for journaling is a fill-in-the-blank kind of format.  A friend gave me one for recording info about my motorcycle trips, and I had one for camping also. Then I found a “Me” journal, similar in format to the other two.  I used that style for a long time. I didn’t write every day… Ha! I actually have gathered 13 years’ worth in only 2 volumes! It turns out if you write as infrequently as I do, you can do, you can get around 6 years in one book. me-journal  journal-sample

Of course, there have been other kinds of journals I have kept simultaneously, so it’s quite possible I forgot about the Me book and wrote in others.  What I liked about that format is that there was the front page to write on with blanks to fill in, and then the back side was blank, so I could write whatever I wanted.  But something was missing, something that could make it more, although I don’t know what more is.

I love stationery shops and bookstores, so as I wandered through them here and there, I searched for a better one, the exactly right one.  No luck – and this has gone on for years!  I wanted one that would help me be more proactive, keep my momentum up, encourage me, instead of just logging memories.  So I made my own version, following the ME format.  I took out the weather report line, and added in a “one thing I’ll do today” line. Then I took out the news report, and added in “what I’m reading or listening to.”   my-journalI also added a line for “I took care of myself today by…”  Since I did mine in an Excel format, I just printed them off and hole-punched them for my Day-Timer.  A few other tweaks here and there, and I have my own almost-perfect journal, albeit still more fact-laden than poetry and prose.  I still don’t write in it every day, but it is helpful when I’m feeling the blahs and blues, because I know when I go back later, I can usually glean some insights from what was going on and how I got in or out of that particular time.

One of the best values I have gotten from keeping a journal is emptying out my brain to make room for other memories, other feelings. I know when I’m “full,” that is different from “my cup runneth over.” When there is too much hanging on, and I can’t think, or can’t stop crying, or can’t move forward, that’s when I really need to put it down on paper and save it for another time, when I’m better able to honor those feelings and gently put them away.

I don’t know how long I’ll keep these journals. I kept a journal during my divorce from my first husband. I dragged it around with me during a few moves from state to state, but somewhere along the way, I tore it up. I maybe should have had a burning ceremony or something more dramatic, but I didn’t. I just shredded it and put it in the trash.  Some days now I wish I had it so I could remember better what my life was like and how far I have come since then.  I do still have old love letters, but that’s not the same.

This Solowingnow blog also has been my journal for the past year, along with other notes and pages here and there. I find it gives me peace to review these posts and also know how far I have come on this sabbatical, and how much I have learned about blogging. It appears I am consistent in my spurts and voids in my writing patterns. But this one is public, so to be sure, it is selective.  And that is one thing I have definitely learned: that it’s okay to be selective, that I don’t have to remember everything, that I don’t have to share everything.  My life is more peaceful when I choose to let certain things go away, or when I actively dismiss them by hitting the <delete> button.  Proof positive that this is MY life, MY way.

Another year gone, another new year starting.  I wonder what’s in store for me now!!

4 Days and counting

16 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by in Dreaming, Sabbatical, Transformation

≈ 1 Comment

It’s hard to believe that in 4 more days, my sabbatical will be officially over…according to me.  And since it is my sabbatical, I get to decide!

What this means is that I will now discipline myself to get up every day and go to my home office and “work.”  I have plenty to do in terms of writing, developing content for my new business, building a client base and marketing my services, and all the other and sundry things that support a business.  And I’m ready to do that.

What it doesn’t mean is that I will go out and get a “real job” now. My income won’t change…yet…so I will still subsidize my spending from what’s left of my savings.  Being frugal on the home front isn’t so bad after all. I have actually considered a seasonal retail job, but I do also have plans with the kids for Christmas, so that might be a problem. And I’m not the kind of person who could start a job without making a commitment to give it a good faith go for the long term. So until I have to, I’m not going to consider that route.

When I started this sabbatical, I gave myself some rules, which were based on my own definition of what a (self-sponsored) sabbatical is.  First and foremost, it was to be a time of rest and recovery so I could process my grief in a way that was productive for me. I didn’t know exactly what that would be, but I deal with things on an active level, so this time off wasn’t intended to just be a long nap.  In fact, my rules were basically to get out of bed every day and make the bed so I wouldn’t be tempted to get back in, get dressed before noon each day, and get out of the house in some quasi-social way to be around other people at least once a week.  I’m proud to say I was successful in that.

I also considered my sabbatical to be a time of growth and opportunity, and I pursued that through reading and travel.  It turned out that I also have done quite a bit of formal “learning” through attending workshops, information sessions, and conferences. I studied not only grief and grieving, change and transition, and writing, but I also enrolled in a Speaker Academy and worked on developing my skills as an solopreneur in the business of speaking to make money. My former employer’s request for me to teach some classes became an earlier-than-expected return to the working world, but it has given me a head-start on my Next Big Thing which it turns out is speaking, teaching, coaching, and consulting.  All things considered, that purpose of my sabbatical has also been fulfilled.

The primary goal I had, though, was to sort out all the feelings I had over Kevin’s passing, and to discover and get comfortable with Solowingnow, not as a hobby or business endeavor, but as a way of life.  I’m still not a fan of the word “widow,” and I still don’t consider myself “single.”  I am on my own in a mix of those two worlds, but even if I were to engage in a new romantic relationship, being in this space will have its mark on my identity.

The other day a new friend since I’ve moved to Williamsburg commented to me that she hadn’t known this version of me and liked the changes she was seeing, that I smile a lot more these days, and I am optimistic and positive.  A friend who has known me a very long time also said that she noticed I seem to be the “old Pat” again.  No better testimonial than those as to my acceptance of my new life.  Of course, this assumes I was happy with the “old Pat,” which I am, although it’s also fair to say I am still moving forward and prefer the “new old Pat.”

Making the shift now from Sabbatical As A Time For Me to working from home will require some new rules. After all, one of my goals now is to make enough money to support me and my business, which will mean consistently making sales, creating a support team, and putting some systems in place.  I have devised a “3 month hustle” plan to get me out of the starting block. And I will refine my 1, 2, and 3-year plans as I get those business formalities in place and the foundation solidified. New rules include having a work schedule, following a plan for when I will do the tasks of running a business (such as admin work on Monday and Friday afternoons, 1-a-day marketing, networking at least twice a week for now, reading/learning on Wednesdays, appointment/call days, etc.).

I am also going to shift away from personal email and facebook during my prime working hours (which may well include hours after 5 pm since I find evening work time to be more productive for me than early mornings), using my business email address more consistently, changing my voice mail on the phone to reflect it is a business people have reached, and answering it with professional greeting instead of just “hello.”  And I will track where I spend my time (or not) so I can continue to make progress toward the lifestyle I desire.  After all, if it turns out that I don’t spend any time caring for me, or doing the things I say I want to do, then my lifestyle will not be reflective of how I envision it being. Who wants that? Been there, done that.

This sabbatical year also has been a time for shaking off the intense work structure I had adopted, and while I haven’t been exactly loosey-goosey lately, I have been very flexible with how and when I do things. This includes when I eat breakfast, when I get groceries, when I do housework, how long my lunch-hour is, when I sit at my desk, how many times I walk around the neighborhood, and where I go on spontaneous road trips.  Now I have to get back into a routine, because I know that will serve me and my business goals, but I will be alert to how it impacts my Self and my life. No longer am I aiming for balance, which implies equal time for work and non-work. Now I am after integration of my personal and professional personas, with a lifestyle (including work and how I contribute to my world) that is of my choosing and my making.

I am Solowingnow and more than content with that….more than accepting….certainly not settling.  I am embracing, I am flying, I am feeling momentum build. I feel strong again, I feel prepared, I feel grateful for having been able to live this sabbatical year on my terms. It’s great to be me again, and I’m looking forward to the next best version of me, too.

Master Procrastinator, or not?

10 Monday Oct 2016

Posted by in Gratitude, Grief, Sabbatical, Transformation

≈ 3 Comments

It just dawned on me last week that next month will be the one year anniversary of my sabbatical!!  Uff-da…where did all the time go??!?!??  There were so many things I was going to do, places I was planning to see, people I was going to spend time with.  And now, like the Christmas countdown, I am seeing days flash before my eyes. And guess what?  I don’t care all that much.

The primary reason for my sabbatical was to rest and recover my equilibrium from the grief experience.  Mission accomplished! I have found my natural rhythm, which is about 7 hours of sleep, some times 6, sometimes 8, and only a rare nap.  I am back to staying up late and sleeping in in the mornings. It’s not uncommon to find me up past midnight.  And the good news is that the dogs have adjusted as well. It’s unusual to have them need to go out urgently in the morning, although Bo is still my waker-upper one.

A secondary activity I wanted to indulge myself in was reading.  For quite a while after Kevin’s death, I could not manage to read a magazine article all the way through. My concentration skills were zilch.  Even though I haven’t read some of the books I had planned to read, I have enjoyed 2-3 books per week on average. They are a mix of trashy romance, cookbooks, biographies, a few mysteries, some self-help, and some business advice-type books.  I have even re-read some of my favorites: The Prophet and Something More among them.

I also wanted to get to know the woman I am now and am still becoming.  I don’t ride my motorcycle much, but I did buy the camper and have taken it out a few times. I have use my kitchen more (yesterday I dried apples, am making granola now, and have given my juicer and my crockpots a workout), and I have gotten to know some new people.  I cut the cable (tv) but did get Netflix (I have now seen all 7 seasons of Gilmore Girls) and am reconsidering the tv thing. I cleaned up my yard (well, I hired someone to do it), and I play with my crafts again. It feels so right to do what feels good. Interestingly, I notice that I don’t spend a lot of time in retail therapy, or if I do go out, it’s window shopping instead of buying.  I don’t need things like I used to.  I’d rather spend my time with people.

So do I need a big push here at the conclusion? Nah, I don’t think so. I still want to find an apple orchard, visit my niece in Baltimore, get to the Biltmore in Ashville (via the Blue Ridge Parkway), and maybe finally release some of Kevin’s hunting and motorcycling clothes to those who will enjoy them.

And the book I was going to write? Well, that is still on the list, too.  In fact, I am joining a new writer’s group called Word Weavers. The first meeting is tonight, and  I am excited about it. New people, fresh motivation; what could be better?

I don’t consider myself a procrastinator, even when I know I am deliberately distracting myself. I am a recoverer, a creator, a human being, and a happy one at that.  It’s a beautiful, fulfilling thing to know you are taking good care of yourself.  To enjoy your own company. To appreciate the little things as well as the big things, and to be okay with taking small steps along with the crazy leaps. It’s not what I would have ever asked for, but this is all part of the gift of grief.  I would take him back in heartbeat, but since I can’t, this is the next best thing.

This lifestyle also has other costs in addition to the loss of loved one.  The real costs of insurance, food, utilities, mortgages, etc.  So one of these days soon I will have to work harder at building an income source, but I’m ready to do that now.  I am truly blessed to have had this year, and it’s not over yet.  Watch out, World, I’m on my way!!

September is the new January

13 Tuesday Sep 2016

Posted by in Dreaming, Gratitude, Sabbatical

≈ 2 Comments

I read on Facebook or Pinterest recently that “September is the new January.” It was in connection with a back to school promotion maybe, or planning or a fall house cleaning concept or something.  For me, it resonated because Fall has always been my favorite time of year, and while many are reaping and harvesting, for me it has always been a time of planning and planting.  There is the mounting excitement for the upcoming holidays, and the subtle end-of-year pressure to finish what I have started, or start what I have yet to get done.

A couple of the bigger things I have not gotten to in the preceding 8 months of this year include going through Kevin’s hunting or fishing gear and finding new homes for it; power-washing the garage floor; and getting a fence up in the back yard. Some of the smaller things include …. well, actually, there aren’t any smaller things left undone. I have done most of what I set out to do, and a few more.  Like developing some friendships here in the neighborhood and in town in general, getting more involved in Toastmasters, camping, and visiting my extended family. What I hadn’t planned on was starting my business, which had consumed most of the past four months.  This is my sabbatical year, and I am happy to say I have also reset my internal clock, lost a few pounds, read dozens of books, walked miles and miles, and let go of my old dreams to make way for new ones. All things being equal (which I know they are not), I’d have to declare the year a success, even though it’s not over yet.

The turning leaves remind me of how I am also turning around. My own color has gone from bluesy nostalgia to sunshine yellow and blushing pink. The crisper air is in balance with my own fresh perspective these days.  The early arrival of pumpkin-everything is in sync with how I am also accelerating my work plans.  The general anticipation in the air is contagious, as I prepare for yet another meeting with potential clients.

I will still write down my 2017 goals around the time of the New Year. But for now, I’m happy that I still have the autumn to enjoy.  It’s comforting to know that the best is yet to come. My life cycle for my new year is starting again.