Having all the time in the world can be terrifying.  Especially when it rolls down to me and my furry companion dog.  I told Dudie (bff dog) that he had no idea what he was getting himself into when he came to me.  It has reinforced the idea that there is definitely reincarnation for dogs as well because he is the perfect partner for me – he listens to every word, cuddles every tear, doesn’t crab for food, doesn’t shed, smells wonderful and has a bladder of steel.  I tell him constantly how amazing he is.  He also is my connection to the world when I’m absolutely feeling shitty.  When I’m wearing sunglasses because of eye bloat, people still come up to us with love and say “Oh, he’s soooooo cute?  Can we pet him?”  Sure, I say confident that I can actually feel normal because they are focused on him and we all get our needs met…a win/win/win.

 

My husband of 27 years and I have amicably separated and my 24 year old daughter lives with him in our house for now so it’s me and my loft walls or my own personal retreat as I have dubbed it.  The perfect place to create my new, amazing life.  And I’m fortunate to have a good friend/mate extending a welcome matt to me in our house and who would do absolutely anything he could for me.

 

I don’t have that many distractions. This might be someone’s idea of a great vacation but in the stillness of my loft/retreat I fact my demons of unworthiness, self doubt and most of all doubting my king pin belief that my path will emerge as I imagine it will.

 

I have wonderful support.  Team Connie as one friend has dubbed us.  Friends, coach, therapist all helping in the launch.

 

So, what do I do with my days?  First I cry.  That was the title of a famous woman’s memoir of her battle with breast cancer.  I don’t have cancer and it’s actually not the first thing I do.  Really, if the truth be told, I’m feeling cold fear right after I open my eyes.  I do what I can with self talk, affirmations, etc. to mediate the fear. but I’m just too raw at that first waking moment to make inroads.  After the fear comes the tears which actually feel better.  I journal, I meditate, which takes the edge off and I plan my day.

 

Have I mentioned grief?  Oh, my good lord!  I truly underestimated the amount of me I had invested in my wonderful work.  How much of me was defined by being Executive Director.  I totally get why many men croak when they retire.  For a lot of us not having a job is not for weenies.  It takes guts to purposefully not have anything too distracting in the day.  At least telling myself that provides some dignity.

 

I try to have at least one activity during the day.  Something to give me some direction, some orientation, some minimal structure and nourish my soul since my activities usually revolve around people whom I love.

 

But I’m not ready for a lot of activity yet.  I’m exhausted from the last few years of survival.  I’m grieving the loss of a job, a marriage, a daughter who no longer needs me and who is growing her own life.  I’m also grieving the departure of my skin.  It decided to travel south.

 

But I’m also excited about possibilities at times, and of experiencing ah-ha’s and synchronicity and joy that tells me I’m moving in the right direction.

 

In my notes I hope to share my progress, my learning, my ups and downs, lord have mercy, and what I’m doing about it.

 

 

With Love, Connie

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