I'm thankful not to be limited by my health in the choices I make, and now that I'm retired from the all-consuming 9-to-5 workday, I find the most difficult aspect of my life is deciding how best to occupy my time. People I barely know graciously include me in their lives and imaginations. Do I really want to be included? I don't know unless I try, but then at some point, I must decide whether to stay involved. I ask myself whether my involvment is serving others and myself to become more fully alive and connected (or whether I feel that I am merely a "yes" person, nodding in agreement without thought). If I find myself becoming numb, wanting to pull the covers of isolation over my head, then I don't think anyone is served (at least not if I am always isolated). If I find myself losing focus and purpose, I am not where I want to be.
Yet I also know that I tend to hurry. . . I make quick decisions that may not be the best ones. I'm impetuous. How long do I "give" these involvements before cutting clear of them?
Sometimes I feel I know little more than a child about how I should live, which says a great deal about how our culture operates. We are encouraged from childhood not to think but to go along with what is "expected" of us. And, though I've always questioned these cultural norms and admired those who break clear of them, I never quite committed (other than internally) to acting decisively in regard to my own life. Instead, I've always lived from this secret self that questioned, raged privately with knotted fists, yet externally, mostly appeared to be rocking right along on the calm waves of our culture.
What do I expect? I just don't know yet. . .
