Another night I wouldn’t mind sleeping, but it’s just not happening.
I spent much of the day yesterday in bed. The hours I was awake were spent suffering a severe bout of heartburn. The day before that I went kayaking with a good friend on the Fox River.
Glassworks, beading, reading about kombucha, some cleaning, organizing, website work, and playing video games. Nothing really out of the norm other than instead of thinking, “thank God it’s Friday,” I’m thinking, “How the heck is it already Friday?”
Dana and I are going to New York next week. I predicted that by this time I’d be itching for an adventure like that. Regrettably I can’t say I’m “itching” for it, but I’m also not dreading it. I count that as a positive.
I think I’ve been feeling some steps, but I’m not exactly sure why. Perhaps it’s some nervousness about going to New York. It might be that I feel fat. It’s possible that volatility in the stock market and this absurd election are feeding uncertainty.
I’ve had a couple of moments that I’ve recognized the benefits of having a job. A job provides a focus for stress, which is an easier type of stress to cope with than whatever it is I’ve been feeling this week. But, at the same time, I wouldn’t trade this weird stress for the consistent, building stress of working.
I just have to figure it out. And, that may very well be what’s causing the heart-pounding anxiety: feeling on edge without understanding why. Is it possibly another stage of transition? I have been having some odd dreams. Past experiences melding together in previously unencountered ways.
And there it is: a sudden wave of relaxation as I ruminate about the dreams as a cause of the stress. Why is that? In some ways the dreams seem like life flashing before my eyes because of the mix of continuities. Life flashing is symbolic of the moments before death.
And that is a silly fear to have. I’ve said that I’m not closing a “chapter” of my life, but ending a book to start writing a new one. In this case, “death” should be viewed as the metaphorical tarot and considered as a change – – a transformation.
The jumbled up dreams could be interpreted as just that. The winding path followed to get to the expected middle-class outcome that has been mostly unexpectedly shortened.
I’ve got to stop referring to myself as “retired.” That has a connotation to it that isn’t accurate. I don’t think it’s a beneficial frame of mind to hold.
So I guess I’m a little bit lost. I don’t know how to define myself in social terms. That has never really bothered me before. And maybe that is the root of the stress I feel. I can’t reconcile the connotation of “retired” with what I am. That begs the question then, what am I?
Of course, that leads me to deeper questions, causing me to toss and turn. I might as well do something: play a video game, read a book, something other than toss, turn, and feel my heart beat. I mean, that’s the benefit of not having to get up for work in a few hours, right?