These days I have plenty of opportunities to grow in the virtue of patience. It seems like in retirement I am busier than I ever was before, mostly my own doing in having joined some committees at church and dedicating myself to a number of projects around the house.
Somewhere in there I am also writing, though you wouldn’t know it from the general absence of anything but photo challenges here. But, it’s happening, quietly and for my personal pleasure. Maybe one day soon I’ll come clean with news about a finished novel. Or not. Patience.
Most days I sit outside in the post dawn hour. It’s probably the noisiest time of day, filled with birdsong, waves gently hitting the rocks, and the occasional whistles of a family of ospreys. It’s my favorite time of day.
I spend as much time as I can outside, whether it’s puttering around the yard, or having a refreshing drink in the cool comfort of our porch. It gives me time to observe. I’ve always been too busy, thinking about the next thing that’s due, keeping track of schedules, mine and the family’s. But now, I have nothing but time.
One of the greatest gifts of this season of my life is living in the moment. It stretches on, unhurriedly. Kind of like that turtle I watched walk all the way across our yard, from one side to the other. He stopped in the shade of the chimenea for a little while, and then went off again. No hurry. No stress. Amen.
Bless you that you have made the transition so gracefully. It’s occurred to me more than once that I won’t know what to do with myself once the littles are no longer little. I suppose I will adapt too (though likely without as much grace and poetry đ )
It’s not without its bittersweet moments. But mostly, it’s a quiet blessing. Unless it’s noisy. The seagulls are capable of an infernal racket.