Raised in the Judeo-Christian tradition, I learned the 23rd Psalm so long ago that I do not remember a time being without it. Now I cannot remember going to a funeral without hearing some or all of those familiar words. They have taken on new meaning for me recently, however.
I don't mean for this to sound grim, because it is not. It is, rather, a story of faith, and my belief that it is the journey that is more important, and what we do as we are traveling along the journey. I have written recently about events over the past several months that have been difficult -- deaths of close, beloved people in my life. Irreplaceable. Then there was the trip that was supposed to be the getaway, to relax and heal -- and turned into its own disaster in which three people lost their lives. It was only after we were safe and sound back home that the full magnitude sank in, with its attendant sadness.
When I returned to work I faced what I already knew, deep down inside. The work I had loved for so long and felt was so fulfilling, no longer brought the same pleasure or held the same meaning. So I had to ask myself, why on earth was I spending my time there? And given the recent reminders all around me of the fleeting nature of this earthly existence, I had to give serious consideration to allowing change into my life.
So now I am not working at that job where I was spending anywhere from 50 to 70 hours per week, killing myself toward a cause that may or may not make the world a better place. Certainly in the short run people are benefited. What I choose to see instead is not the job, but the people with whom I connected there.
I cannot say enough about the many hundreds of outstanding people I had the good fortune to know as a result of my work in that spot for over 20-plus years. I learned so much from so many, who
allowed me the opportunity to pass that knowledge and experience to the next generation. I hope I did my part to prepare them for the trials and tribulations that will come their way. The problems they will face will be different, of course, from the challenges with which I wrestled. But critical thinking, people management, and problem solving skills will never go out of style. That said, it was time for me to exit the stage and let the next generation take over.
What to do now? I need time to heal, frankly. It has been rough. In one of my meditation sessions it came to me that a vessel in my condition needed time to be put back together and I needed to be patient with myself.
I walked through a very dark valley, a death-dark ravine, but there was no reason to be afraid. I knew all along where my Comfort was. I was never in any danger and had no reason to fear disaster. I still do not fear danger or disaster because I know that I am protected. I wept; my heart continues to feel pain. That lessens as time goes by. If I am able to look outside myself, find a way to be of service to someone else, the pace of the healing picks up.
Change is a constant in our world. Fighting it serves no useful purpose, so it may make sense sometimes to harness those forces of change, ushering them in by choice. So I will be spending more time with my sweet spouse and see this great country. Maybe my children will let me bring the grandkids along from time to time as well. At some point it will be time for me to start the next phase. When it does, I will be ready.
Stay tuned, the best is yet to be.
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