Pay attention

 For the last 15 years of my career, at two different agencies, I was blessed with an under-ten-minute commute, long telling myself I wouldn't take a job that involved freeways or crossing the river that bisects Portland into east and west. And here I am, driving 45 minutes each way, to the hinterlands of rolling farm country, halfway to the Oregon Coast every day of the week.  It's beautiful, and...

The mind wanders on a road trip, either to blissful serenity, a feedback loop of planning, or various paths on Memory Lane, especially when accompanied by my personal soundtrack on the stereo. It wasn't long into sobriety before I realized music is a mind-altering substance. There were certain songs I simply couldn't listen to for several years - songs that made me want to rip and run, or those that triggered sorrow. And, time does heal. Today, I can listen to Artie Shaw and fondly remember my dad or sing along to an old Motown song without wanting a do-over for my twenties. One day at a time, one song at a time.  

I keep reading the encouragement to "Follow your dreams!" or "Live your best life!" (always with an exclamation point!) I'm not even sure what that means as I wait for my big RETIREMENT DREAM to show up. Actually, being retired is the big dream for now. 

All I really need to do is pay attention. Dreams and whispered longings don't always announce themselves with neon lights, and sometimes I don't even have words for the nebulous urges lurking just below the surface. I'm thinking about the unexpected reconnection with my first husband and the man who followed him in the last years of their lives. I'm thinking about marrying a man with the daughter I didn't consciously know I wanted, running a half-marathon on the Great Wall of China, writing my novel, my dream of being a teacher showing up in my career as an addictions professional, and this temporary job appearing right when money was feeling tight. Always, always, always, it is about doing the next right thing. Sometimes that leads to sweetness, and sometimes not (as in a recent online class that was just so-so), but it always takes me to the next step, and then the next.

In a dream last night, I was talking to a young woman who was excited to be graduating from high school. I told her about my step-daughter - nine years old when we met, and now nearly ready to graduate from college. I told the girl in the dream to pay attention because time would move quickly, and before she knew it, people she loved would be gone, and experiences she thought would last forever would be over. Pay attention, which I cannot do in hindsight, as much as I'd like to tell younger-me to slow down just a bit. 

Yesterday at the grocery store, from fifty feet back, I recognized a friend of my cousin's I hadn't seen since high school. In my mind's eye, she was a slight girl, usually wearing Levis and a Sir-Jac, with hair parted in the middle, which is just about how she looked last night. I would've recognized her stance anywhere, and instead of walking down another aisle, I decided to say "hello." We shared a few words, her rasping over the oxygen tank in her cart. I was heartened to see her, sorry for her health, and grateful that I was able to put down the cigarettes so many years ago. People come into our lives, some staying, some disappearing, and some popping up from time-to-time to remind me of the girl I once was (in Levis and hair parted down the middle.)

This has been alternately a busy and a reflective week as I suit up and show up for the j-o-b, and as we acclimate our remaining cat to being a solo pet (which she seems to be enjoying). I'm putting one foot in front of the other, grateful for long term recovery as I listen to women with under 90 days ride the rollercoaster. Thank you for coming along on today's posting from the Road of Happy Destiny.

What are some dreams or goals that may have shown up in your life in unexpected ways? Did you recognize them at the time?  If you could tell your younger self to pay attention, what do you wish they hadn't missed?    

 

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