One of the things I appreciate about dead roses is that they are just as beautiful as they are when they are alive. I was thinking of this this morning when I went to the back porch to consider my plan to cut back on work and blogging for one day a week, starting today.
Don’t laugh; this is not my first time considering this plan. I’ve failed every time.
Saturday is a good day for that since Maria has taken Saturday off from work—devices, quilts and potholders, blogging, and picture taking—for more than a year now. She finds taking the day off important for her creativity, her physical and mental health, and her moods.
I have not been able to do that. For me, work is not work but an opportunity to do what I love—take pictures, write, and blog. Sometimes, I overdo it. I need to learn how to relax a bit; it’s time for my health, my creativity, and my well-being. I love to sit and think, I love to sit and read, and I love to be with Maria and have time to talk with her and do our shopping and chores together.
My problem is that I need to learn how to relax, and it’s too late for me to understand. I’m 77 years old; it’s time.
I will start working on this on Saturdays, starting with today. I will take some photos, and I am already blogging here. But I will also take much of the day off to understand and experience what it means to relax. My general philosophy is that I can relax when I’m dead. I have lots of things I want to do. I have no interest in retiring, and I have no interest in relaxing to the point that my work suffers.
My work is my life, along with Maria. I don’t want to step away from it.
I won’t take a day off of my flower photos, and I won’t take a day off of Cambridge Food Pantry – people need to eat. Otherwise, I’m moving to a half Sabbath on Saturdays. I’ll report on my relaxing experience, of course, I’ll write about it and take pictures : ).
I know exactly how you feel! I’m 68, and still working at a job I actually like. It involves a lot of writing computer code. I’m sure I would feel differently if I did something that required physical labor, or the mental and emotional labor of doing something I didn’t like. It’s a lesson I learned, in a way, from my father. He always maintained that he didn’t WANT to have a job involving something he liked to do, because he was afraid that would ruin it for him. I remember being dubious about it, and then when he died of a heart attack, the lesson hit home for me. I DID have a job I didn’t like, and quit that whole career. Ever since, my priorities regarding work have been activities that I enjoy in an organization I believe in (at least believe in more than I scoff at; sometimes it’s a close thing). I’m now older than my dad was when he passed away, and in the best health of my life.
each Spring I bring in daffodils from my garden to put in a vase. when they are close to dying but not turned brown, I empty out the water. putting them back in the vase they dry out. delicate , beautiful.