Sunday, April 26, 2009

Moving On

No, I'm not going to tell you I've quit blogging (the non-evidence of the past two months to the contrary); I'm going to talk about the ways in which I'm moving on and how I feel about that.

Exhibit A: Earle's moving out. I'm basically OK with the fact he and I are calling it quits - we came to the mutual conclusion that we make good friends and good housemates, but that we're not more than that (think of magnets pushing each other away, in certain configurations) - but, you know, I'm really rather tired of being on my own. I'd like someone around to be nice to and for someone to be nice to me. Plus someone to help decide what the hell to do with the gutters.

It's rather hard being in one's mid-fifties and unwilling to spend hours and hours staying in shape and dieting and exercising and dyeing your hair and shopping and hemming pants and plucking eyebrows and makeup and dealing with flirting with guys who, in reality, are mostly pretty damn boring or whacko, if they're unattached at an age close to mine. I don't want to do all that anymore (not that I ever did to speak of). Screw it. I would like my fitness back, however. When I broke my ankle four years ago, I started sitting on my ass way too much (and knitting/spinning/weaving, ahem). Despite the gorgeous weather here today, I'm not inspired to go dig up the garden or saw down the dead branches way up in the spruces or much of that. Lack of exercise breeds more lack of exercise.

Exhibit B: We're all getting older. My parents are getting older and they'll die sometime in the next five, maybe ten years. Dad'll be 81 on Sunday; Mom just turned 79. A friend and neighbor of theirs just dropped dead at the age of 83 while arriving to see his grandkids hunt for Easter eggs. I don't want my parents to die, I don't want my friends to die, and I don't want to die. Blunt, but true. Helluva thought for early spring.

Exhibit C: I'm an okay knitter, an okay spinner, an okay weaver. I'm a relatively new spinner and a very new weaver, so I forgive myself beginners' mistakes, but already I can feel myself being driven to do good work. Creative work, competent work. Not dabbling-around work. Which takes time and training and practice and stretching one's brain inside-out. Rather like getting back in shape, only more so. I just don't know if I have it in me to work that hard, or, conversely, to relax about it and just knit/spin/weave for fun. I must always press onward.

And yet the chances of my getting anywhere are slim, especially given my age and other commitments (see Exhibit B) and the energy needed for coping with companionship or the lack thereof (see Exhibit A).

Annoying, really. I expected better from life, since I'm basically an optimist, and it's annoying when life doesn't live up to my expectations.


Elizabeth said...

Oy, big changes afoot.

I hate those moments when I come up against that I'm too old to be the next big young thing, a wunderkind, whatever. OK, I'm not single, but I've spent all this time trying to figure out what to be when I grow up, thinking I still have all the time in the world, and next thing I know, 50 is on the horizon.

Be the best you you can be today.

Laurie said...

Sounds like MLC.

One small step at a time. Do something you can do now. No control over death except, well, some modicum with diet and exercise.

From the other side, we survive our parents' death. It hurts like hell, but it's expected. I, too, ponder the unfairness of mortality.

cyndy said...

Well, I am glad you are not going to stop blogging.

...and I hate goodbyes, so I knows how you feel...was it Gibran who said the things that make us happy are the same things that make us sad?

I think "working it all out" on some fiber project would be good (my kind of therapy).

(and don't worry about getting is the journey that matters..or so I try to tell myself)

Darx said...

A friend recently said to me that you don't have to be the best at something for it to be worth doing. It helped me to hear that. Sounds like you've got a lot of change coming and I hope it turns out to be more of a fun ride than you might expect.

kim said...

"Lack of exercise breeds more lack of exercise."

Tell me about it!! Carl & I did all that yard work yesterday and today I feel like I single-handedly plowed the entire back 40, without the help of a mule!!

Sorry to here about Earle, but settling just to have someone around leaves a bad taste too. Give yourself some time to find your center again and then get out and do stuff you like/are interested in and just keep an open mind. You've got a lot to offer someone and if they're interested in things you like, they'll actually find you interesting too. And if they're hung up on the package (which is nowhere as bad as you paint it), you wouldn't want them anyway.

In the meantime, I recommend a dog: they are always happy to see you and you'll get the added benefit of required walks. Lots of great mature dogs are being surrendered to shelters due to the economy.

Hugs, Kim

Anonymous said...

Big changes. Things tend to work out for the best, or at the very least the way they're supposed to, so wait and see.

Spinning/knitting/weaving should be stress relievers, not stress inducers...

Deep, cleansing breaths.

DeltaDawn said...

Wow - sending lots of warm vibes your way.

Age is something, eh? I'm doing a lot of the same thinking you are - parents, friends, loss. I'm trying to get back to today, instead of later.

I'm glad you're not quitting the blog too!

janel said...

Oh Lynne,

Here's a big hug. I know what you mean about the mortality stuff. My parents are old, my inlaws are old and even my dogs and cat are old. I'm dreading what I know is coming in the next several years.

And about the other stuff... you are a spicy, delicious woman with lots of talents and interests. I think you look terrific, and more importantly, I think you are interesting. I'm sorry Earle didn't work out, but I think you have a lot to offer out there.

Keep on telling us about your passions, and your dragonflies. I love to read your blog, and every time you post I see that wicked little gleam in your eye and your smile.

Erica said...

Big thoughts, big changes. Ride your drive...or at least let it pull you along for a bit, see where it takes you. It's funny some times, what happens when things don't turn out nearly as we expected. Be well- Erica


((HUGS)) Take your time, reflect, think, meditate, pray... Once you breathe slowly, you will come to realize that change is inevitable, it happens everyday, every minute it just take us time to adjust. As for being the best and working at it. It's just that working at it that makes you, your best. I send you love and healing, face this as a simple bump in the journey.