I’ve been thinking a lot this winter about life: where I’ve been, where I am now, and where I want to go. Not in the physical sense, but in the “I can do anything I want, so what do I really want?” kind of questions. Winter in the southwest is a good time for that kind of reflection. Everything is quiet, hollowed out, waiting. Me, too.
As I walk through the desert landscape here in New Mexico, I see trees standing tall against the howling wind. Bare branches hide the dormant buds, waiting for the right time to emerge. I’ve been waiting too, listening to my heart, asking questions and writing pages and pages of answers in my journal.
It’s been a difficult few years, and not just because of a global pandemic. Untethered from my long-time identity as a worker bee, as a daughter and caregiver, and emotionally bruised by a lot of things in my past, I’ve struggled to define who I am and what I want to do with my time and energy, my restless mind, my wandering feet.
Slowly, as I write every morning and as I walk every afternoon, the path is becoming clear. Do this, walk away from that. Let that belief go, find a better one. Embrace the uncertainty in the world, and in my own life. Let go of the idea that I can can control much of anything. Learn to go with whatever the days and months and years ahead bring.
I’ve retreated this winter, in more than one sense of the word. I’m focusing on what matters most to me, and it’s not Facebook or photography challenges or keeping up with all the news out there. I’ve thought a lot about why I choose to do something or not do something. My decisions are starting to focus on whether something brings me joy or not (a concept borrowed from Marie Kondo). I’m done with should, with guilt, with doing what other people think is right for me.
I’ve found myself being more calm and centered every day, less prone to anger or frustration when things go wrong (as they inevitably do). I feel like myself, just a better version, one that has aged into a new maturity and wisdom. I’m content with who I am and where I am in my life, and it’s been a long time since I could say that.
I’m not sure where I’m going from here, but, as always, I’m curious to find out.
We must stop believing that these times in our lives are somehow silly, a failure of nerve, a lack of willpower. They are real, and they are asking something of us. We must learn to invite the winter in. We may never choose to winter, but we can choose how.
Katherine May
(The book from which this quotation comes, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May, has been a guide and companion on my winter’s journey. I highly recommend it in these difficult times.)
Thanks for this, Annie, glad to know how you’re doing. Love your words and pictures.
So very glad that you’re finding your own path to self-peace, dearest Annie. <3 This post puts into words what tumbles in my mind without direction and thank you for making it all clearer. You are, as always, amazing.
Beautifully written from the heart! Thank you.
What a wonderful post Annie. Thank you for sharing something so personal. I completed resonate with your words. My health issues completely derailed my life in 2018 and I have been asking myself many of those same questions as I rebuild my new life. Thank you for the reminder that life feels better when we aren’t people pleasing or doing things out of guilt for others. One of my lifetime struggles and something I have had to really work hard at not doing. Life is so much less stressful when I listen to my heart and not the world.
I see you, my friend. I admire your courage and strength in rebuilding your life into something different with the challenges you have. We’ve both come a long way since West Seattle, haven’t we? <3
Embracing winter leads to spring. You’re almost there!
Hi Annie, I’m 24 working days away from retirement. With one kid still at home and in university, and with one parent thankfully still healthy at 80, I’m years away from untethered freedom. But I too will be seeking this clarity for myself at some point in the future. Thank you for the reading recommendation as well as your heartfelt, insightful post.
Good to hear from you, Kimberly, hope all is well with you. A few weeks away from retirement, pretty exciting stuff! I hope you find it rewarding and all you hope for.
This is a wonderful, heartfelt, inspiring post. I have often wondered what it would be like to be single and full-timing and if I could ever do it. Some qualities that seem to me to be important for such a lifestyle include what appears to be a large network of friends and acquaintances, excellent planning abilities, and lots of personal discipline. And today you have demonstrated a great capacity for reflection, introspection, and actionable insight. It is so very hopeful that you have found a better version of yourself, with added maturity, calmness, wisdom — all things I hope for, too, but it seems to be a bit further away than I would like. Thank you for sharing your thoughts as well as your photography.
Thank you, Elle, for sharing your thoughts, I appreciate it. I have a close circle of friends and family that have backed me up when things went awry, and I treasure that because I know they have my back.
Annie, I am going through huge upheavals in my life right now and the question you ask is one I’m starting to face with a different perspective. My husband and I have decided our lives are moving in different directions and we have separated. Somehow that’s an easier, softer, word right now than “divorce”, although that’s what we’re doing. Going forward as friends rather than life partners is a mutual decision, but one that has left me, at times, worried, stressed, relieved, anxious, calm and scared shitless…sometimes all in the same night. 🙂
I am transitioning from mom & wife caregiver, to daughter caregiver as my parents are moving here. It’s a lot of change…I am still not sure what I”m going to do when I grow up, but it’s not quite what I had thought a year ago!
Oh, Laura, that is a difficult set of transitions to make. Please let yourself feel whatever you want to feel, laugh, cry, howl at the moon, take a long hot bath. Being a caregiver, long-distance and flying/driving down at the drop of a hat was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, to see parents aging and needing help. But that I would do again in a heartbeat.
If you want to talk, ping me on Messenger (yeah, I’m on that, but only check it every few days) and we can figure out a time. Hugs and love, my friend. It may not feel like it now, but you’ll be OK.
Thanks for your reflection. I turned 65 last May. The birthday gave the the freedom to accept that I have lived and learned. I am seeing that I have useful (and useless) wisdom. It’s a new perception of myself. I look forward to looking up the book “Wintering”.
How wonderful to find peace within when the world is so full of the opposite. Turning off the news helps, but it doesn’t change what’s happening. I’m finding the pandemic, the war, my cat’s broken leg, my health, and some broken home appliances are part of a pressure cooker that is my life. I’ve been trying to be kind to future Luanne, but for now, I’m trying to put less pressure on myself. The bed doesn’t have to be made perfectly. I don’t really have to ride 20 miles every day. I don’t now if I’m just losing the ability to cope as I age, or, if, like you, I’m looking for what I really want out of life. The journey continues. . .
It took a long while to find what worked for me as a mantra when I would get stressed out from the little things piling up. Definitely working out my obsession with being “perfect” has helped tremendously. I’m only human!
Love this!
Thank you for such an insightful post.
Wonderful self-exploration and self-knowing as you are now! Lovely use of your beautiful photos, as well!
I can really relate, even though I am not there yet. I am in that space, too, where the question is “I can do anything I want, so what do I really want?”. And that letting go of those expectations that bound me before. Thank you, I really enjoyed reading this.
Karen, thanks so much for this. I hesitated to post something so personal, but it’s my website so I can do what I want (I told myself before pressing the Publish button!). It’s definitely a process to retire and to lose my last parent in the same year made things even harder. I wish you best of luck in asking what your heart wants in your future, may you find your own path and enjoy it.
Thank you, I just lost both of my parents in the last year. The reality sets in on how short life is. We bought an Alto 1743 and we are planning to venture out with the family, that’s how I found your blog. We are based out of the Hudson Valley. Maybe we will cross paths at some campsite!
Ah, I lived in the Hudson Valley for years (Pok area and Saugerties) while I worked on the Clearwater. I’ll hopefully be at Schodack Landing in August, if you’ll be around?
Happy for you, Annie!
Dear Annie, I bet you touched the heart of many in that post, mine included. These were the very thoughts going on in my mind today as I read your post. Like you, I have found “Wintering” insightful and I love the quote you picked out. I too have dealt with losses, semi-retirement over the last year and in this part of our lives I too have reflected about what is really important. Thank you.
On another (playful) note – will you take up cold water swimming as Katherine did?!