On the cusp

Autumnal Equinox

When day and night are almost equal in length. After which, of course, the days get shorter and shorter until the winter solstice. In Maine, on Dec 21 the sun will rise at 7AM and set at 4PM. Gulp. Some say the early darkness and light deprivation in general are harder on the psyche than the cold, snow, and ice itself. I must be a bit anxious about it because I had a dream last night that it was September 21st, and I woke up to a world covered in snow and ice - and burst into tears. Of course in reality, I woke up to a beautiful sunny day, and calmed down over breakfast and coffee on my deck. My daisies and nasturtiums and garden full of flowers, herbs, and cherry tomatoes were cheerful and promising. Another day to procrastinate battening down the hatches, as the thermometer was moving upward on its way to 70. Whew!

What is it about fall that makes us so pensive and melancholy?  Of course this year, there's a lot of change in the air around me. Up and move at 58 - new job, new home, new community, new friends. The house and job were a relative snap. Both fell so rightly into place - and I can honestly say I feel right with both. And both are leading to new friends as well. But what's that saying ...... "There's no mirror like an old friend?" Thankfully, staying in touch is a lot easier in the 21st century than ever, and travel accessible. I recently had a great visit from my dear friend Pam. We met 24 years ago when our kids were both in the NICU. Not your everyday shared experience. Then we ended up in the same neighborhood and there were playdates, birthday parties, shared dinners, teaching the kids to ride bikes and sending them off to school. And then the divorces, the single parenting, financial stresses, survival, coming of age for the kids AND us. And through it all - a lot of laughter. And now we're empty nesters 900 miles apart, and trying to figure out how to have quality time in concentrated blocks here, there, or somewhere else once in a while. Having almost 4 days of fine Maine late summer was a good start.....
In between work and 'retire'ment as well......or so I thought. Maybe more like putting on a new set of tires to roll through new turf with my loved work with little people. They of course are some of my favorite new friends. Nothing quite like hanging with a two year old boy who is trying to figure out how to tell you what's on his mind. Fresh slates to draw on. Not at all like meeting 62ish year old boys (or women) who drag a lot of baggage along with them, though the layers of stacked experience do make us an interesting lot for the most part. Working / playing with little people is like living in eternal springtime. The curiousity and openness with which they typically approach life is infectious and empowering. Without renewal, it's hard to face winter. I get some of the same sense of hope and promise planting bulbs about the time of the autumnal equinox. In gardening, I think there is nothing more rewarding. At 44 degrees latitude, I expect spring blooms will stir elation.
On saving for retirement - or preparing for that kind of winter. Hmmmm. I keep wrestling with that one. The whole concept of retirement 'funds' is really all so recent. Only in 'developed' western culture do we presume that it is the responsibility of the individual to support him or herself as we age. Of course a mere 100 or so years ago, the life expectancy was 30 years younger, or about 48-50. I still find that staggering. So now, at 58, do I continue to build my retirement fund, presuming that I will be able to buy quality of life 20 years from now (??????), or do I focus more on phasing in my actual retirement NOW, realign my daily priorities NOW, and hope that somehow luck, reasonable fiscal planning, and listening to my own biological clock will free up some of the stress of worrying about tomorrow. OK, I first have to admit that I have no 401-K 403(B), pension plan, etc. etc. Nothing traditional in my retirement plan, except for a very small Roth IRA. It, like most of my friends' retirement "investments" has performed poorly. Plenty of them (friends) are freaking out because what they had saved for tomorrow has been shrinking rather than growing for what seems like a long time now. Many can't even look at their statements, even tho it's just a  number. I think the bottom line as I see it is that if you don't invest in OTHERS - especially our KIDS - there will be no safety net in the last laps of life.
OK, that's plenty enough musing for today. We narrowly escaped an early frost last night, and it's time to head out, enjoy the sunshine, and get some of those spring bulbs planted! 

Labor Day weekend

An odd mix of work and play themes this holiday. Though rooted in celebrations of workers and history of organized labor, we generally think of it as a last wave of summer play. And so my own thoughts, as I enjoy this glorious 4 day weekend, are also stuck somewhere between wallowing in unbelievably beautiful weather and the long to do list. The radio has been playing an interesting lineup of folk and work songs, back drop to my focus on self-elected chores on the homefront.

Oh I did push myself up the road on Friday to explore a different village and waterfront, and check out the windjammer festival in Camden. Today I'm insisting on finding a local beach I've been meaning to check out. But laregly, I've been happily chipping away at home improvements. I seem to have this door theme going on. (witness the photos from my last blog) I'm sure there's something metaphoric there, and I doubt it takes a rocket scientist to feel the current. Anyway, this weekend's project has been stripping, sanding, and painting old doors. Most of the doors in the downstairs had been removed and stored in the shed. I've decided to revive some of them, and rehang them. First, to offer some climate control options in the colder months ahead. Also, just to enjoy their beauty. They are all very old, very heavy solid wood doors with umpteen coats of paint. Several have the old glass doorknobs, reminiscent of my mother's house, and invitation in themselves to bring them back. Part of this journey will be seeking old hardware to complete the restoration.

Work. Hard work. Good work. I love days that in the end feel.........productive. I am lucky to have both employed and unemployed work that generates that feeling. I can't imagine not liking the work that one does.....or not being able to find projects that are fulfilling. But I am reminded that I am not one of the 10% of Americans that are out of work. And I've seldom had to to work, and never for long, at jobs that I didn't really like. I can't imagine what it does to the spirit to get nothing from one's work but a paycheck.

Some jobs - like stripping and painting old doors - take more time and energy than makes economic sense. That's sad. So culturally, we often end up replacing old well built things with slapped together, hollow, cheesy, new versions. Usually something that will not last, but will last long enough to serve our fleeting purposes and lifestyles. I'm sure my doors are original -meaning about 150 years old. What do we make today that will be around 150 years from now? Our cost /benefit ratio is completely skewed toward a more temporal way of thinking and living. What can we crank out in the least amount of man hours? But we also find that some things that need being done are also just too expensive to happen - unless you can do things yourself........AND have the time. Building fences, mowing the lawn, replacing windows, knitting a sweater, growing our own food. So either you have to make a lot of money, have a large extended family to co-op chores, or learn to live more simply. A lot more simply.

Thousands, maybe millions, of Americans are being forced to do just that. Some side effects of the economic downturn are of course positive. Without the support of jobs and benefits, people just have to become more efficient, creative, and entrepreneurial. Maine is chuck full of people doing just that. Artists, artisans, craftspeople, and small business owners. They do more of their own work at home, and share the chores of neighborhoods and communities. They gather to argue and debate the perils and possibilities of change and progress, and what that all means anyway.

And so this Labor Day, I ponder the work of striving to live more simply. To each day cherish the work of one's own hands, and the play of sharing simple pleasures with those working around us. Happy Labor Day.