Archive | April, 2013

Am I a Doer or just a Thinker?

4 Apr

I’ve always thought of myself as a doer.  But lately I’ve been wondering if maybe I am really more of just a thinker.  Somehow the idea of being just a thinker has never appealed to me.  I’ve always thought of myself as being out there, actually doing something.

Yet so very, very often it is just ideas that grab me.  Of course I have desires and sometimes even intentions of acting on the ideas.  But most of the time I don’t.  Sometimes I berate myself because of this inaction to DO something.

Now though, I seem to slowly be coming to the conclusion that it’s acceptable, maybe even beneficial to my self to be just a thinker.  And maybe, just maybe, I will get to the place where I won’t even have to attach the “just” to the thinker part.

So many things grab my interest.  Natural buildings.  Gardening,  Self-sufficiency.  Those have been my mainstays over the years.  Then there are the ones that seem to come and go–sewing, knitting, art, technology, outdoor recreation, healthy eating, and food in general.

I’ve always been interested in tying new things.  But–perhaps it is just that I’m getting older–but now it seems that I’m not really doing so much.  Yet, surprisingly I don’t feel regret.

No regret that I haven’t canoed the backwaters of northern MN, for instance.  (I had taken an Outdoor Women class with my granddaughter and enjoyed the canoeing part so much I wanted to do more.)  I found the MN and other sites on the web.  I ordered flyers of canoeing events from MN, NY, FL and GA.  I checked out Road Scholar canoe events in different places.  Many were women only, but not all.  I intended to take in a canoeing event somewhere, sometime.  But, it just seemed the sometime never came.  (Although when I think back on it now, I do remember the 2 day trip I took down one of our area rivers.  Perhaps that trip was sufficient enough to prove that I could do it.  Now I’m wondering–do I do things more because I want/like to or to prove I can??  I’ll have to think on this and maybe get back to it later.)

I’ve been giving the excuse of wanting to be with family.   This excuse is in my mind, to myself mostly, because really it is only to me–not others–that it matters weather or not I do something.  When I think of it now, I realize that although it is true I like to be with family, they certainly haven’t been keeping me from doing things.  Indeed, in the past, when I’ve participated in different activities, it has enriched my interaction with my family.

I wonder now, if maybe I am just slowing down.  Or maybe I’ve just been going through a slump and will regenerate again.  Who knows?

I smile as I read this.  It seems I’ve gotten off of my original thought.  But maybe I haven’t.  Maybe it’s the thoughts (notice I’m not saying ‘just the thoughts’) of doing things that have sustained me.

I’m slowly realizing that it’s OK to be just interested in things.  I don’t have to actually do everything (or even anything, for that matter) that interests me.  I can enjoy talking about things that interest me.  I can enjoy writing about them.  And I can enjoy thinking. just thinking, about them.  Thinking about things that I am interested in is a wonderful part of who I am.  It keeps me energized–on the inside even when it doesn’t carry through to acting on the ideas.

It gives me a kind of thrill, now, realizing that I have discovered something new about myself.  Just in writing this post!  I’m becoming so much more accepting of myself.  I’m learning to actually like who I am.  Not everything, of course.  I still have a long way to go in some aspects of my life.  But, it’s good that I can now say (again, mostly in my mind, to myself) that I’m ok with who I am.  It’s ok to be a thinker.  It’s even more than just ok.  It’s a good thing.

Thinking is something that I can take with me everywhere, anytime.  It isn’t reserved for special occasions or special times.  It has been and will continue to be my constant companion.  It always has been.  It’s just taken me a long time to value it.

So back to my original question…. I believe I am both a Doer and a Thinker.  Each has its place and its time.  One is not necessarily better than the other.  They are both a part of who I am.

Now I’m thinking ahead of posts that I will write.  About all my interests.  Sometimes I’ve thought about writing about something, but didn’t because I hadn’t had any practical experience with it.  But now, maybe I will write about something just because it interests me.  I can post the workshop events that excite me.  About the technology that amazes while sometimes frustrates me.  The questions of what would it be like if….

And I’ll keep learning.  About myself, about things around me, things that interest me.  I’ll leave the things of the old self behind.  It was good for then, but this is now.  I’m not the same person I was yesterday.  Nor will I be the same person in my tomorrows.  Maybe I won’t be actively canoeing in my tomorrow, but I can be in my dreams.  And, who knows?  Maybe tomorrow will bring a new surge of energy or a new interest.  Or maybe an old interest will reawaken within me.  Maybe I will just have period of reflecting, discarding, and renewing just by thinking.  I want/need to continue to enjoy the learning and not regret the leftovers.  Because they, too, are part of what makes me who I am.

8 (or is it 5?) years

1 Apr

In May I will experience the 8th anniversary of my wedding.  Experience it, not celebrate it.  Bittersweet. It is strange how number milestones can effect us.  But saying (or even just thinking) the numbers can sometimes hurt.  So it is 8 years, right?

Yet, 2013 marks my 5 years without him.  And, even though it is the 8 year anniversary coming up, its the 5 year loss that I am feeling.   Has it really been 5 years??  Really?  In a way it doesn’t seem possible.  Yet, in an other way it seems like its been so long.

He was my husband.  My Love.  My life.  We had only 3 short years together, yet those years meant and still mean everything to me.

It was a second-hand romance for both of us.  One I never expected, but am so very, very thankful for.  Even though it hurts (so much sometimes still) to be without him, because of him I experienced true love.

As an endearment, I called him Love.  He was. And I miss my love.  I miss his smile.  I miss hearing his smile in his voice.  I miss the wonderful feeling of being loved.  I miss my best friend.  My lover, my mate–my husband.  And I miss loving him.

This been a  hard winter for me.  Since last fall I have been a widow longer than I was married to him.  Widow–from the Latin–separate.   Not a word I like.  Separated.  Part of me is missing.  Gone.  Not just a temporary parting, but gone.  Widowhood.  The time of being a widow.  A state of being.  Nothing about it is easy.

The experts’ say it can be a time in life when we can find new meaning.  So far, I have learned the meaning of loss.  The meaning of loneliness.  I had never been lonely before.  Alone, yes.  But not lonely.  Lonely now, because of having had him and his love, because now he isn’t here.

Yet, too, I have found new meaning in the word ‘thankful’.  Thankful for those precious years we had together.  For the wonderful opportunity to love and be loved.  For having a mate with which I could share everything.  For having a best friend.  Thankful, too, for family and friends that try to fill the gap for me.  It means so much to know that others care.

Whether I call it 5 or 8 years, it is still a milestone. With milestones I think of progress.  Progress?  Sometimes.  In some ways.  I am trying to build a life again–without him.  Hard, but for the most part I suppose I am doing ok.  Although, other times I wonder.  I wonder if it will ever get easier.  It seems from what I’ve faced so far the answer isn’t concrete.  For me its been a sometimes thing.  Sometimes, I’m doing good.  Sometimes, not.  Sometimes I’m filling my days with things that get me away from my self.  But other days I seem to need to just cry a bit.

When I think of either the 5 or the 8 year time frame, I think of all the memories.  Some good, some not so good.  But how very, very wonderful that I have them.  How, even though he is gone, he is still with me through my memories.  Sometimes he seems very close to me, and other times just a memory.  I love the memories that come that make me smile.  Smile remembering him.

I continue to work on making this new existence be enough.  Enough for my new life.  Although it helps to keep busy, I don’t want to fill my time just doing stuff to be busy.  I want my life to have meaning.  I’m trying to reach out to others more.

Today I read some blogs about losing a spouse.  Although it made me cry, it helped.  And after reading a few, I realized I needed to write in my blog.  It wasn’t just that reading my blog might help someone else. It was more that I needed to write.  Writing seems to be a form of therapy for me.  

I am learning to enjoy the little things.  The sun coming through the clouds.  The new spring blooms and buds popping out.  Spring is coming.  A couple of barn swallows built a nest over my back door.  Although it looks like a mess, I can’t bear to tear it down.  I love to see them flying to and from the nest.  There will be new life.  Hope.

I value the precious times spent with friends and family.  And I even value my solitude.  Just as long as I don’t have too much of it.  I am learning when I need to reach out and when it is ok to just be alone.

I’m learning its ok to have strange habits.  If I wake up in the night, who cares?  Who cares if I go to bed early the next night?  Or even if I take a nap in the daytime.   Who cares what I eat or when I eat it?  Although I could feel sorry for myself that no one cares, I choose, instead, to relish my freedom that I’m the one who decides.

Well, it seems I’ve run out of words.  As I reflect on what I’ve written, I’m thinking that maybe I will celebrate the 8 years.  Celebrate what it has given me.  Concentrate on what that date brought into my life.  What I’ve learned.  Keep working at accepting the loss.  And value the things, the precious things that remain.

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