And no, I don’t mean the store.
It happened. I gave up on me and gave into giving to others. All the time. My students. My family. Like a tsunami, their voices, their needs, their attention, grabbed my minutes, my hours, my weeks–my months!
I’m not blaming them. It’s my fault. My own doing. I decided to give unto others. But now I’m here, back with you, with me, with my thoughts, with my hopes, dreams, with my potential.
A new year. A new start.
Ahhh, to be healthy of mind, body and soul. Not a NY’s resolution. It has to be my grove, my mantra, a fact of life.
Writing reminds me. So does the sun. So does a cool glass of bubbly on a Sunday afternoon.
So here I begin, again, announcing, to the blogosphere: I’m ready for my life to begin. I think that means I have to retire. But economically it would mean selling my house, buying an RV of some sort, and hitting the road. I fantasize about it all the time; I obsessively hunt online for the perfect Class B RV. I watch full-time RVers’ YouTube channels. It sounds so fun; no worries; new places; new people; an open road ready to explore. But then I think about missing my family–my grandchildren–my city. I think about giving up all of my possessions that I’ve worked so hard to acquire and know that I might miss being surrounded by them. Then I think how great it would be to be free of possessions, to live simply, with meaning and purpose. To be selective. To be mindful. To be surrounded by trees or camp alongside California’s Central Coast while everyone else is working.
Yeh, I have to experience this. I have been fantasizing about it for the last four years.
I don’t want to wait until I’m too old, too sick, to cranky and feeble. I’m at my prime, 62. I have tons of energy, creativity. Now is the time. I think.