A Life in the Day
I read a story in Crow’s Feet where the author was wondering if she was in the ‘winter’ of her life “If Life Has 4 Seasons, Am I In Winter Yet?” She sees her life in seasons.
I see my life as a “day.” I see ages zero to 30 as the morning, all fresh and dewy, full of hope and energy. The morning sun burns off the dew, burns off all those firsts, as I approach noon. Taking everything I have learned in the morning, I enter ages 30 to 60, the afternoon. The sun is high. With sleeves rolled up, fortitude, skill and earned wisdom, I maintain a thriving graphic design career, get married, raise three children, a bit of travel, a lot of volunteering for causes and fundraising, more education and a reboot of my career. Thirty years of laughter, tears, exhilaration and exhaustion.
Evening arrives, 60 to — .
These hours have brought loss. Enduring the painful and prolonged process of ending the marriage. Enduring the heart-ripping loss of my dear sister. Enduring the pain and recovery of a broken arm, and the brutal realization of the limitations and fragility that this age can bring. I have a new respect and practice of daily exercise and yoga. I pray differently.
“Life is so beautiful. Life is so hard.” — Kate Bowler
These hours have brought love, and long walks through woods, camera in hand, loving the trees, wildflowers, their colours and scents. My love of painting has been sparked as I notice the blank canvas propped against the kitchen wall, begging to be painted with an image that finally excites me. I recently reconnected with the brother of a good friend, and have these past few months enjoyed the relaxed company and deep affection of this sweet companionship. And with many more design opportunities, the love of my profession is still there. These evening hours are full, challenging, juicy and joyful.
“I think women, especially, are handed this idea that they are incomplete beings if they aren’t in a significant relationship — that we’re not whole without a partner. I have felt more complete, more myself, in the last three years of being on my own, than I ever have being with someone.” — Jann Arden
This evening, I am caring for myself. I have also enjoyed three years of solitary living, reveling in the stress-free freedom of my own space. A time to just think and to decide how to spend the moments of the remaining day. In these hours, I am enjoying deep friendships, a wonderful connection with my adult children and precious time with my parents. I think about my aunt, my namesake, who lived independently until she was 60, then married and enjoyed 25 years marriage until she was widowed, and then to carry on, independently again. She will turn 100 this year. There is the potential of so much more life in the evening!
“Tell me, what do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” — Mary Oliver
None of us has certainty for our futures. But I look to the past as evidence that good things happen. Not always getting what I want, but always having what I need. Provision, good friends and family, a sustaining faith, the undercurrent of joy. At this hour, I rest in that. And look forward, with hope, to a glorious sunset.
