I am grateful this evening for routine. I start my days by getting up and writing in my journal each morning pretty much before I do anything else, and I end by writing a blog each evening. In between I have myriad other little elements of habit and routine that, rather than being stale and boring, offer some normalcy and regularity in what is otherwise a somewhat chaotic and unpredictable life.
Today was a gorgeous day–I was able to enjoy some time outside at the park today, and though it was cool, the sun and the air were pleasant. I was glad to be back out there having missed going out and taking the dog along with me for our usual jaunt. I had moments of bliss as I sat on a hill looking out over a plain of tall grass. The wind whispered through the golden grasses with a wisssshhhhhh sound that almost seemed like hushed voices. I feasted on the sounds as well as the sight of the green-gold grasses bending gracefully in the wind, and was grateful not simply for the experience, but also for the senses that allowed me to enjoy it so deeply. The sights, sounds, and smells of the grasses transported me back to childhood days in Indiana, lying in the tall grasses of the neighbor’s field across the street where I spent many quiet, solitary hours. Sometimes, in the midst of all the hubbub and traffic and noises of the urban area that surrounds me, I long for the quiet, if not the solitariness of those days.
It can be a real challenge not knowing where you’re going next, where you’re “supposed” to be. At most points throughout the course of my life I’ve known where I was going and what I was going to do. Except for one brief period during my early 20’s, I have not been in such a complete state of unknowing as I am right now. Almost seven years ago I planted my flag here in the San Francisco Bay area, with the full expectation that I would live out here for many years, if not the rest of my life. (California had never been on my list of places where I wanted or expected to live, but I happened to connect myself to a person who not only lived out here, but showed no inclination to want to ever move from here and certainly not to move to where I was in Michigan.) Now here I am, no longer connected to that person I thought I’d be with for many years into the future, and I was laid off from my job last year. My daughter just graduated from college out here in California and is moving on to graduate school out of state. My son who moved out here a few years ago also seems to be winding down his stay in the Golden State. Suddenly my reasons for remaining here are dwindling. Yes, I have a small circle of friends and have come to appreciate many things here–such oddly disparate things as the Berkeley Food Pantry, where I volunteer each week, the East Bay Meditation Center where I am learning about mindfulness and meditation, and Cesar Chavez Park where I’ve taken such restorative strolls over the past year.
I now find myself in a complete state of flux with no clear plan, no destination in mind. For the short term, I have been alright with that. Soon though, I know that I will have to make some pretty significant moves to change my life trajectory. I am grateful for the support and encouragement of the people around me–both those who live here in California as well as family and friends in different parts of the country. As I continue to seek out my “what’s next,” they continue to “be there” for me as I sort out my life. They are a great source of strength and comfort to me that I do not ever want to take for granted. At this moment, on this day, I have no clear idea of what I’ll be doing even a few months from now. I do know that whatever happens and wherever I go I will have cultivated the practice of gratitude, and that will stand me in good stead wherever I end up next.
