Retirement Revelations

 While it has been years in the making, I recently retired early. I retired from years of customer service. I retired my TN massage license. I retired from my psychotherapy practice in Colorado. I retired my real estate license in TN. I guess you could say I have “re” tired. I am focusing on farming, but I am not defined anymore by the outcome.

I always thought that as a “Type A” driven personality I would come to know my true nature in my work. But that has not actually been the case.

My true nature is emerging in quiet times. We recently added a four-season room to our home. It became one of the most stressful experiences of my life, due to total lack of control over the project. But now that it is *mostly finished,* I find myself flourishing in the quiet space. I never realized that I had not taken a breath or “set a spell” over these many years of being driven to get things done. Yes, in case you don’t know me well, there is a lot of unresolved grief coming from loss in my immediate family. Yes, I know I have been attempting to fill this void by getting stuff DONE. And while I still have a long “to do” list, I have suddenly realized the importance of being quiet AND still.

I have (along with my husband) been rescuing animal for years. But there are no animals in my new quiet space. I realized I just needed at least thirty minutes every day without attending constantly to the needs of others. It has amazed me how restorative this is. In the past, I could never have imagined a space where my animals were not constantly present. Now when I return to them, I am ready to be fully available and untroubled.

I am 62 years old, and just now beginning to find my center. I realize I live a very fortunate life, and that many are simply not able to “take a moment.” But if you can find your way to quiet and stillness, whatever that looks like for you, the insights you gain will overwhelm you. I promise. Cheering you on, Marianne 

And Moses Roared

"Moses?" you ask. Ok. Well, he showed up a few months ago at our farm and roared like a lion. And it just popped into my head: Moses spoke AND THE PEOPLE (and other cats) LISTENED. He changed most everything around here. Our peaceful cat kingdom got turned on its head. Having six cats already, I had taken a solemn vow not to become a crazy cat lady. In these parts, seven cats is the magic number for that moniker. It seems I have just crossed over.

Photo by cat-lover Dwayne Smith

I did feed the hungry Moses when he showed up, but I kept telling myself not to get attached. That was made easier since he wouldn't even let me touch him. He was a Tom cat with a head the size of a bowling ball and dangling man parts, and I knew he would soon be on the prowl and would likely disappear for good. And for awhile I prayed fervently for that to happen.

You see, feeding animals here on the farm is a type of morning and evening meditation of sorts for me. So when Moses created chaos (being an intact male in a neutered and spayed world), I found myself anxious and resistant. I wanted him to go away.

And then one day he did. Immediately, I felt lost and mission-less. The peace and quiet irritated the hell out of me. Confused, I began looking for Moses, but without any success.

About ten days later (but who's counting), Moses reappears. He is now holding up his right foot, and looking generally pathetic. I try to approach him slowly, but no dice. Still, he allows no contact. He will accept food and water, but that is all. Over the next two months, I attempt all types of cat whispering, to no avail. He continues to pick fights with the other cats. I know I need to get him to my vet's office, but he is too smart for a trap, even when food is temporarily withheld.

My cat tribe grows weary of the roaring and scrimmages. I start getting anxious before I even walk out our door. My usually sweet husband starts calling him Limpy Cat. Moses just roars even louder.

And then one day everything changed. Moses started seeking me out, increasing resentment among my established cat order. A few weeks later I was able to pick him up, put him in a crate with only minimal drama, and deliver him to my vet. He was neutered and vaccinated, and no discernible cause was found for his limp. I believe I have been majorly outsmarted!

In my experience, cats are very good at figuring out what a person needs. In hindsight, I needed my world to be shaken up a bit. I needed to establish a new order. I might even have needed to be reminded how easy it is to be had.

And just like that, Moses is my new best friend. He even stood straight up on his hind legs today and purred (quite loudly) while I was petting him. I don't believe he is going anywhere, unless he finds the need to shake up someone else's world order.

So tell me, has anything shaken up your world order lately?

Marianne M. Smith

Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time

http://writerattheranch.com

wordsmith@writerattheranch.com

The Hazards of Over-thinking

Recently I've been thinking about a change in direction.  Well, I shouldn't say recently.  I've actually been thinking about it for a long time.  In fact, I've been thinking about it so long that some of my early steps toward this goal are no longer valid.  Now I'm having to begin again! 


There were many reasons I didn't jump when I first wanted to:  fear, financial reasons, fear.  Did I mention fear?  But I knew it was a move I wanted to make and I felt good when I sat still with it.  I usually trust my feelings more than my intellect.

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But I sure can find a lot of reasons not to move forward now.  It is always easier to think of moving forward later. 

Yet there is nothing so frustrating to me as that unrelenting feeling of stuckness--of being in a place that is not good for me to be in.






If I truly trust my feelings more than my intellect, why am I over-thinking things? Fear of making a wrong decision and fear of failure rank right up there on my list.

But sometimes you can sit still so long when you know you need to make a move that opportunities simply pass you by.

Fortunately for me, I'm 55 years old.  My new mantra has become: "If not now, when?"  So I'm learning to jump.  If I fail, it certainly won't be the first time.  If I become miserable, it will likely be a different kind of miserable than I've experienced when feeling stuck.  At least I won't have to look back later on and say to myself: "Why the heck didn't I try that?"

Is there something in your life that you're over-thinking? While I'm not endorsing total recklessness, I'm asking you to consider (but not over-think) your reasons for stalling.  And then do it, anyway!  Would love to hear your thoughts on this, if you're so inclined.  And thank you for reading!

Marianne M. Smith

Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time

http://writerattheranch.com

wordsmith@writerattheranch.com

Half a Cake

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I was raised by semi-gracious Southerners, and I like to think my manners are decent.  So I was surprised when my even-tempered husband flew off the handle:  “Half a cake?  You can’t be serious!  You can’t take someone half a cake!”

“What?” I said.  “Of course you can.  Everyone is happy to get cake.  I’d be happy with a piece, or even a bite!  And besides, it has chocolate icing.”  But he remained incredulous.

I had innocently proposed taking our new neighbors half a cake that I’d just baked.  But somehow my Yankee husband, who is not even obliged to have good manners, found this to be totally unacceptable.  The way he carried on, you’d think I was taking them a sack of poop.

So I asked him if he’d be offended if someone brought him half a cake.  He said he was quite certain that he’d be highly offended, even though he loves cake.

His thinking:
Receiving half a cake would send anyone spiraling into a low self-esteem abyss.  It would make anyone question why they weren’t good enough to receive a whole cake.  It would also make you wonder who ate the other half.

My thinking:
Someone thought enough of me to bring me cake!  How much cake is totally irrelevant.  I love people who bring cake; I’m easy that way.

[[IMG]http://i176.photobucket.com/albums/w191/remtardremtard/glasshalffull.jpg

So I have to ask you, my friends:  Is receiving half a cake offensive to you?  I know it’s a glass half full/glass half empty kind of proposition, but I’d really like for you to settle this argument once and for all.  Please leave a comment and let us know what you think.  And if you want to, just drop off half a cake!

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time

http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com

The Transparency Conundrum

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In these days of rampant oversharing online, it’s sometimes tempting to conceal (or at least not expose) your personal beliefs.

As a freelancer, I try not to alienate my audience, which is quite diverse.  At the same time, sometimes it is difficult to wade through Facebook, blog or Twitter posts without expressing an individual opinion.  So far at least, I have mostly avoided “liking” or “disliking” any post having to do with politics or religion.  Right now that seems like a pretty big avoidance curve, and it’s frustrating to practice.

But as a person who holds both spiritual and political beliefs close to my chest, being transparent could also be considered a push and a chore, and maybe even a violation of my personal code.  At the same time, I don’t want to be perceived as someone in the middle of the road who is afraid to make a stand.

There are some who say that being transparent is the only way to live; Jeff Jarvis has many interesting thoughts on this topic.  Yet there are dangers, too.  Putting yourself out there opens you up to all kinds of criticism.  It can alienate the people you seek to attract and connect with, and can even limit job options.  And sharing too much can, of course, make you look like you lack tact and good sense.

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Then again, there are those who believe that if you are authentic and forthcoming, you will attract like-minded people and be a more genuine human being.  You will draw people who support your beliefs and welcome your candor.  Perhaps you could even say that you are on a path to fulfill your personal mission.

But more and more, I still find myself wondering whether it’s more uncomfortable to share or not to share.

I’m still sorting all this out for myself, and would love to hear your thoughts on how you handle these issues.  Please feel free to leave a comment or send me an email, depending on your sharing comfort level.  And thank you for reading!

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time

http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com

Swimming with Alligators

Photo from floridastateparks.org/wakullasprings/photogallery.cfm

My husband was recently on an extended business trip in Tallahassee, Florida.  He decided to do a little exploring on the weekend and ended up at Wakulla Springs State Park.  While wandering, he heard a lot of screaming.  Turned out to be swimmers warning other swimmers about alligators in the water.  In fact, these swimmers were in the designated swimming area that has swimming platforms just in case alligators are sighted.

I was shocked and confused when I heard this; why would anyone swim with alligators on purpose?  Maybe it’s just a Florida thing, but I viewed it as an unnecessary risk.  The official state park website suggests that the platforms, located near the spring basin, are for “observation and dining.”  But from what my husband heard, alligators are common in the area and the platforms are there so you can get the heck out of the water.

This little vignette set me off on a bonafide thinking circus.  Why do we assume some risks are fine and others aren’t?  Why are we sometimes willing to take risks that don’t make any sense to others?  Are there risks that simply aren’t worth taking?

Maybe I’ve just gotten older, but I’ve discovered that I’m not as willing to take unnecessary risks.  And I’m probably more spontaneous and impulsive than most.  But l’ve found that slowing down and trying hard to be patient eliminates most of the unnecessary risk-taking in my life.

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I’m not talking about always playing it safe and walking the straight and narrow.  But to swim with alligators, just because?  There were plenty of other beautiful vantage points to appreciate the view.

I’m trying to learn not to be reckless just because I can be.  I’m trying to learn that proper planning and patience are necessary before undertaking great risks.  Hope I don’t sound like a grumpy old killjoy, but for me these life lessons seem to be an important part of what I’m learning as I age in this uncertain time.

Am I suggesting that you never do anything wild and crazy?  Certainly not; and if you know me well you’re already smiling.  But if you’re going to swim with alligators, make sure that you are doing it for the right reasons.

Thanks for reading!  As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts about what I’ve written.  Feel free to leave a comment or send me an email.

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time

http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com

Unlikely Conversations

http://photobucket.com/images/talking%20in%20airport" 

A woman collapsed next to me in the airport.  She was sobbing so hard that she could no longer breathe or stand.  I thought she was going to hit the floor.

I grabbed her from behind by the elbows, and said something like: “Please, let me help you!”  Suddenly, her whole demeanor changed.  She looked embarrassed, tried to control her tears, and looked grateful all at the same time.

Once she recovered a bit, I suggested we go and grab a bite to eat.  I had a substantial layover, I told her, and could use some company.  She explained that she had already eaten, but would be happy to keep me company.

We began a very unlikely conversation.  I unwittingly became the woman’s confessor.  She had just watched her husband board a plane.  They were trying hard to conceive a child, without any success.  She was ovulating, and now he was out of town for an extended period of time.  She felt inadequate, overwhelmed, and like a complete failure as a woman.

She told me that she did not feel comfortable discussing this with friends or family.  But somehow she could talk to me—a complete stranger who she would, most likely, never see again.  I understood this, as I once met a woman on the beach who I shared my own secrets with.

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Isn’t it interesting that we sometimes feel safer sharing secrets with strangers than we do with friends or family?  I suppose there is a presumed safety in anonymity, and perhaps a perception of less judgment.  Maybe there is less fabric to unravel.  Makes me wonder if we should reconsider who are best confessors are.

Have you ever had an experience like this?  If you’re comfortable sharing it, I’d love to hear about it.  Feel free to leave a comment or send me an email.

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time

http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com