Toward the
end of 2014, I bought myself a new calendar at my favorite bargain store to serve
as a placeholder until I could find one I really liked. So far, that hasn’t
happened, and the calendar’s big, blank pages glare at me with the question of
what 2015 will bring.
Like many of
my peers who grew up in B.C. (before computers), I struggle with having one
foot on the solid dock of paper and the other foot in the boat of cyberspace
and technology. While I love being able to whip out my cell phone to take a
picture of the lovely Madelyn Simone or to check out a fact on the internet,
I’m not ready to trust my weekly schedule to the wiles of modern technology.
After all, what if I lost my phone (been there, done that) or phone service
goes down? No, I’m sticking with a calendar I can write on with a pen.
So when I
was in a meeting last week at the Massillon Museum, I opened my big,
nondescript calendar to select a date for a future meeting. The museum’s
director glanced over at my calendar and said, “Wow! Look at all that blank
space!”
Did I detect
a hint of judgment in her tone, or was it envy, as her calendar overflows with
the day-to-day responsibility of running a cultural institution, participating
in the life of the Massillon community, and preparing for impending motherhood?
I, on the other hand, felt my own twinge of envy as I looked at her full plate,
remembering the sense of accomplishment I felt when I, too, had a similar
responsibility at the Ashland Kroc Center. While I love the rhythm of my life
in these days of semi-retirement, I do miss having one main focus that helped
to mold my days.
Since I’ve
worn the self-selected cape of superwoman for so long, I also felt a bit of
shame at the vacant spaces on my calendar. When I got home, I was tempted to
pencil in words like “T-G column due,” “educational enhancement with MSS” (my
Nana days with the lovely Madelyn Simone), or “preparation for staff training
on self-care and time management,” one of this week’s tasks that didn’t make it
to the embarrassingly empty pages of my calendar.
The truth is
that I do have a lot on my to-do list, and I don’t sit around eating bon-bons
or watching Say Yes to the Dress,
although I did succumb once to that temptation between Christmas and New
Year’s, substituting pecan turtles for the bon-bons. I worked until midnight
twice this week on a funding proposal, and I’m finishing this column with about
an hour to spare before deadline, so yes, I’m busy – or at least undisciplined.
But my calendar, that all-inclusive document that kept me somewhat organized
for so many years, doesn’t show it. And, at least at first, I felt guilty.
With a
milestone birthday nipping at my heels, I am reflecting on this season of life
and how to reframe my definitions of success, accomplishment and even value. Benedictine
Sister Joan Chittister reminds me that “Life is a growing thing going from seed
to sapling, from pillar to post, hither and yon, forwards and backwards but
always, always toward its purpose, the shaping of the self into a person of
quality, compassion and joy.” Who has lived well? Chittister answers her own
question: “Those who have sucked the juice of life from every period of its
growing,” finding themselves to be “more human, more wise, more kindly, more
just, more flexible, more integrated.”
I’m
recognizing that this period of growing is shifting my guiding images from
superwoman to midwife, from warrior to wise woman. I’m becoming content to lead
the way less and come alongside more. To soothe my ego, I am going to buy a new
calendar with smaller pages so I don’t look quite so derelict. Yet as I “suck
the juice” from these days, it is with a deep appreciation for my present
season of life, the unforced rhythms of grace (Matthew 10:28-30, The Message),
and plenty of sticky granddaughter kisses.
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