Elderwomen Musings

To take on something new, I need to let go of something old. Weeding isn’t enough.

Just as I empty the flowerpots to move to a new place, I need to empty myself every now and then to allow new stuff to grow. Today is a milestone. It’s my birthday. Today is a good time to sort through, empty out, let go. Today is a good time for a new adventure, a new direction, new thoughts. It’s how we stay flexible.

But I’ll keep the pots. I like the colors and the shapes. I’ll use them for new flowers and plants that belong in the new climate, the new place.

And I’ll keep the deep friendships. Some things can’t be replaced.

I open my eyes, the trailing edges of a dream by woodland and river brushing against my foggy mind – impressions of roots and moss covered rocks, ferns springing up and wildflowers blooming in shady places, flickering sunlight and blue sky seen through old trees, the song of the river in its blithe becoming.

There was melancholy in my dream and an element of panic too – the night’s concerns linger as I awaken with coffee in hand.  What if I am failing here in this lifetime?  What if I am unable to share in any meaningful way, just how rare and precious and beautiful is this sacred earth we are all treading together? The ferns emerging from the ancient rocks care not for such things and are content simply to be.  Perhaps, like them I get to come back over and over until I get things right.  Whatever happens, I know that I shall be among these hills forever and drinking in the light.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about relationships, especially friendships.  I have only three forever friends—my husband, my brother, and Donna.  I have two others who died and live now in my memories. I wonder sometimes if I should have more long-lasting friends given that I have walked this earth for so many years.  I’ve had lots of rewarding while-you’re-around friends and many acquaintances, mostly related to my career choices and the places I’ve lived. When I’ve moved on, these friends have stayed behind.  From time to time I reconnected with some, but the conversations, while enjoyable, were bound more by who I was before than who I had become.  It has been enough for me to retouch these relationships, feel grateful for the significance they have held in my life, then let go.

Mine has always been a lean life.  I’m not given to a lot of possessions, and the few that are important to me I could carry in a backpack.  Maybe that’s why my forever friends are so few. I like traveling light and am comfortable with solitude. But I sure am glad those forever friends have been forever.