The New Year brings major changes to my life. Last year I wrote about the liminality of this holiday and now find myself stepping over the threshold into an abyss. I have “officially” retired from a job that I loved, that was my life. Many people say that in retirement you can begin to live your dreams. I lived that dream for years. Wakefulness reveals the carapace of a life unlived. Retirement dawns in doubt.
Right now, that threshold resembles the event horizon of a black hole. Will I be sucked in to reach maximum density, or will I escape into the chaos of potentiality? Somehow I must turn my natural bent for ataxia into ataraxia. I could say that I have plans to do thus and such, but these are save-face responses. Be patient.
Adjustment takes time. Reflection cannot be rushed. Shall I “thence retire me to my Milan” [The Tempest, Act V. Scene i.] or will new paths tempt me? If the latter, I can only hope is that the road that chooses me is interesting if not long.
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