Changes

One of the things that we shouldn’t lose sight of here behind the lines is that, in spite of all the enemy action, life goes on.  Writers noted, in recollecting the Nazi occupation of France, for instance, that even among those who resisted, life went on.  People lived, and loved; married and had children; learned, created, and yes, even wrote.  Well, for me, life is also going on, and the time is coming for a major step in it for me: retirement.

There’s been much touted about this life event.  Some say that it is dangerous, that without the routine and activity of work, one can face either or both of a physical and emotional crisis.  The curious thing about most of these folks is that, following their warning, they almost immediately offer some sort of program you can shell out to be a part of to insulate yourself from this impending fiasco.  A person who does not heed their warnings will, perhaps, suffer a collapse in self-esteem – and here behind the lines, self-esteem is both a hot button item and a gold mine for these practitioners – and end up in some kind of a very sorry state.  Think of it: Freed from the predations and machinations of the outfit that paid you a wage, you will somehow think you are an unworthy specimen of some kind.  By that logic, no one would want to leave hell, because without the torment, one would become, apparently, a nobody.  Pop psychology. Go figure.

Still, one must have something to do.  Now of course, music and books are two things that one can certainly indulge in when time pressures are not pressing.  And a moderate amount of constitutional activity is certainly good for, well, the constitution.  But still, there should be something active and creative that one undertakes, again, for the constitutional good.  Like, say, writing.

In my case the road to retirement has certainly been paved with good intentions when it comes to that activity.  Once I wrote a lot, but that was, as it were, in the midst of battle and conflict.  When that was resolved, the impetus was not so immediate, and try as I might, turning to the keyboard (or mic if I wanted to dictate) simply had no imperative,  or at least not enough to counter other options and distractions.  So what to do, to return to writing, given that I want to (and I want to).  And then I remembered what Flannery O’Connor wrote in one of her letters. (And if you haven’t read her letters, collected in “The Habit of Being,” do yourself a favour and read them.)  She lived on a farm, with her mother, and was quite ill quite often, suffering from lupus, which claimed her life quite early in its course.  But with everything, she set herself a discipline that made her productive.  She wrote for two hours a day, unless she was incapacitated.  Years ahead of Nike, she just did it.  And even though the prospects of my own efforts being anything to be compared with hers, I intend to follow her example and do the same. Writing. Two hours a day. No matter what, extreme exigencies only excepting.

The first thing that went through my mind when I considered doing this was, could I find anything that would keep me busy writing for two hours a day?  The last time I wrote consistently, it was because things were being pressed upon me by very significant events.  Would there, I wondered, be things to be found, rather than responded to?

I think there will be.  Current events will still happen, and the battles here behind the lines will continue.  If none of these events prompt an essay, then there’s the advantage of being older.  After all, having spent 22 years working in a place that is severely and brutally secular and atheistically humanist has not been without incident.  And many of those incidents not only have moral implications, but they mirror the battle issues themselves.  That will be the challenge: Can one relate this experience to the moral issues and battles being fought around us in a way that is illustrative and not just a gripe-fest about things past (whether the gripes be legitimate or not)?

So this will be the challenge I will be turning to, and am gearing up for these days.  Mind you, the more I think of it, another question arises: Will two hours be enough for this, and indeed, will I have time enough to do this justice even if I have the wherewithal to do so?  For what it’s worth, I intend to find out.