I’ve discovered something about myself lately, and it only took me 61 years to figure it out. Imagine that! During my last year of working, I had a pretty good drive to work. Now, whenever an appointment takes me down those same country roads, I find myself enjoying the drive. Something about the trees, open fields, and quiet surroundings relaxes me. It clears my head and makes me feel rejuvenated.
I’ve never really considered myself a country girl. I’ve lived in the country thinking I was a city girl, and I’ve lived in the city wishing I was a country girl. Apparently, I can’t make up my mind! But I’m beginning to realize it isn’t necessarily about where I live. It’s about what surrounds me and how it makes me feel.
After 34 years in childcare, I’m accustomed to noise, responsibilities, and constantly being needed. There was always a problem to solve, a decision to make, or someone who needed my attention. My brain rarely had an opportunity to shut up, and believe me, that brain of mine can be exhausting! But when I’m surrounded by nature, something changes. I feel calmer, less anxious, and able to think without a hundred thoughts interrupting each other.
The funny thing is, I’ve experienced some beautiful surroundings throughout my life. I’ve ridden horses, cared for animals, lived with a 17-acre lake behind my house, been surrounded by trees, and even had mountains in the distance. Looking back, I wonder if I ever fully appreciated what those places were giving me.
Now that I’m retired and thinking about where I want to settle for the rest of my life, those surroundings matter more than ever. And yes, I said the rest of my life! At 61, you start thinking differently. When you’re younger, you plan where you want to live for the next five or ten years. At my age, I’m thinking about where I want to be until the day I die. Not exactly cheerful, but it’s reality!
I don’t want to live in the middle of nowhere tending cattle, feeding horses, or chasing chickens around the yard. I’ve done the animal thing, and those pretty country pictures leave out an awful lot of work! I still enjoy shopping, restaurants, and the conveniences of city life. But I want trees, birds, gardens, and enough quiet to hear myself think. I want to grow flowers, plant vegetables, and create a little space where butterflies and birds feel welcome.
I think part of this comes from spending so many years contributing to something bigger than myself. I raised children, supported families, employed people, and built a business that mattered to my community. When you spend decades being needed, that sense of purpose doesn’t simply disappear because you retire. But neither does the desire to finally be free of all those responsibilities.
And that’s the strange part about retirement. You spend years looking forward to the day when nobody needs anything from you, only to discover that being needed was part of what gave your life purpose. I don’t miss the problems, the phone calls, or the constant demands, but I do miss feeling like I’m contributing something.
Maybe that’s why nature appeals to me now. Planting a garden, tending flowers, or caring for a little piece of land gives me something meaningful to do without being responsible for everybody else. Nature doesn't need a meeting, a policy, or a decision made before five o’clock. It just needs a little attention, patience, and time to grow. And quite frankly, that sounds wonderful!
Maybe retirement isn't about finding something to replace everything I used to do. Maybe it's about learning that I don't have to keep proving my worth by staying busy. I can enjoy what I've worked so hard to have, create a beautiful place for my family to gather, and contribute to the world in smaller, quieter ways.
Those country drives have helped me realize that I don't have to choose between being a city girl or a country girl. I just want to live somewhere that reminds me I'm part of the world, not responsible for running it.
And after 34 years of taking care of everybody else's little piece of the world, I think I've earned the right to enjoy my own.
No comments:
Post a Comment