Fever Dreams – Advent – Don’t Worry About A Thing

I am susceptible to feverish impulses. It’s a trait. Not a good one, but a dominating one. This week I succumbed to a feverish dream about a house three doors down from one of my besties. A beautiful lake house. An unaffordably beautiful lake house.

This is one of those times when retirement does you no favors. You don’t really yet know what it is, but you have more time to dive into all sorts of rabbit holes. Like the one I dove into this week. By 10AM Tuesday, in my mind, I’d moved to New York State, and was putting all my books into the library bookcase with the view out onto the patio and the lake.

What I discovered in the past two days is that I have a lot of very convincing enablers in my life. As I was mentally unpacking dishes, whistling and scooching the couch a few inches to the left in the new, high ceilinged living room, my friend David called. After telling him about the house, he said, “You should have it, Els. You should make this decision just for you.”

My son and I texted. I sent him the listing and told him I was jonesing for this house. “Go for it, Mom, ” he said, even though it meant separating us 2300 more miles than we currently are. Also maybe not best practices for retirees to move across the country from their kids.

I texted my friend Jenny, and asked her to be my realtor. I texted my mortgage broker.

I texted my sister-in-law who thumbsed up the house and then said “shake it off.” (Not an enabler’s response. Thank you, Terry!)

When my mortgage broker got back to me later in the day, the whole thing kind of spectacularly fell apart. He had calculated based on some loose numbers I’d given him while he was driving to the dentist. When I said he might not want to be calculating my mortgage while he was driving, he told me “the car is driving itself.” Based on some numbers pulled out of the air, it seemed like I’d be doubling my housing costs – not the first thing to do in retirement, I’m pretty sure. My inner calculator of the soul was doing all kinds of justifications, just as my heart was doing all sorts of fluttering.

As the two days went on and I heard back from folks, it did nothing to quell that hunger that I was feeling. The “why-can’t-I-have-it?” feelings. I had a dozen reasons why I should have the house, and only a few why I shouldn’t.

By two this afternoon, the dream was dashed, mostly because I couldn’t envision listing my own house in the two weeks before I went to Europe. But it got me thinking or better said, it loosened the constraints around my thinking. I posted the picture of the back patio of the house of my dreams as wallpaper on my laptop to remind me that I can have what I want and to start setting down what it is that I do want.

I read in the New York Times Magazine on 5/12/24 all about retirement that one might create a mission statement as part of the planning. Later that week, I met with my compassionate, accomplished, kind circle of Post PQ practitioners and I tentatively voiced my mission.

If you see something, say something.

Not in the anti-terrorist sense, of course… Out of our conversation that Wednesday night with my friends, I was thinking how powerfully positive it was to be seen by my colleagues and former students on the day of my retirement party. Everyone should have such a moment of recognition in their lives. We wait until people die most of the time to eulogize them. It is uplifting and thrilling and often surprising to hear what people see in what you do. Saying something, as my friend Allison discovered, can have a profound influence on someone else’s life.

My mission going forward is to do recognize individuals for their kindness and compassion, skills and talents when appropriate. Because of course, you can see where this mission could go completely south in a saccharine sludge of self congratulation or platitudes.

The universe is signaling me. Today I dropped off my USC parking pass and had a deep conversation with one of the employees in the office, Cassandra, who has worked there 37 years. I thanked her for her service to me because over the past 18 years or so, I’ve trotted numerous artists from SDA through the office as they bought their parking passes. In the last few months, I asked for, paid and got a reserved spot in the lot closest to my office which saved me climbing stairs after the long days of our 7 productions since March. She lit up, stood up and we had a real conversation about life and retirement and what there is to look forward to after working ends. I stopped by to get some stamps before going back to my reserved parking space for the last time, but not worried that I’d get a parking ticket because Cassandra had put a note in the computer that I was on my way.

My Dad’s and my trip to Florida reinforced the “see something say something” mantra. His ebullience is irrepressible. He just can’t help himself. But watching the people whom he “accosted” (my internal word at the time) light up with big smiles made me realize he’s on to something. Some people just have that ability. Our son Chris is like that. People see him coming and they either love him or hate him. There’s no middle ground. But he takes full advantage of those exchanges. He enjoys them while they’re happening and even more in the retelling of them because frequently outrageous things happen. And imagine how much richer your life will be through engaging on a more meaningful level with people – powerful and empowering.

Today as I came off the freeway, listening to my Tidal App’s day’s Discovery – Bob Marley (not a discovery, but thank you anyway!) I pulled up to the light and the young men who’ve been there lately cleaning windshields like folks did in New York in the 80s were there. Miracle of miracles, I had three bucks in my car to give them after initially waving them off. As my window went down and the Marley blasted out, they looked at me and at each other and we all laughed. Unexpected, I guess. I drove away with clearer vision. Thank you!

I’ve had some great hikes in the past few days. As my body strengthens for the next adventure, I am relishing friends and family and the leisure time and activities. Thank you, Tom, for your patience with my progress on the Temescal Canyon Trail. Great and exhausting hike!

I had a beautiful card waiting for me at school today when I went to the mail room. It was from one of my colleagues, who used the word Advent instead of farewell or retirement. Her final instructions, “be kind to yourself” spoke loudly to me. I am grateful to see what the road ahead will bring. I’m glad my windshield is clean.