It occurs to me that I seldom truly listen to my mentors. I am fortunate to have a vast network of really brilliant, genuinely supportive people in my life. I call them when I am feeling vulnerable, or confused or just downright lazy. They loving tend to the crack in my soul, apply generous amounts of spiritual spackle and send me back to the firing line of life.
One such mentor came to my mind just the other morning, as I watched the beautiful sunrise on a much needed morning walk, both dogs in tow. I met Nancy more than 20 years ago and she piqued my curiosity immediately. She looked a little like she would be a kindly grandmother in another 10 years or so, with a sweet voice and a soft spirit. But she told stories of her life that included biker bars and falling in love during a hazy night with a man that she was sure looked just like Jesus (whatever he might have looked like). I bonded with her over so many things, but mostly I just loved her. She rolled into coffee one morning with this fantastic "awareness." She had been praying every morning for the angels to drive with her and guide her safely through the Los Angeles traffic, but that morning she got into her car and realized she had forgotten to dismiss the angels each evening and, well, on this particular morning, there was no longer any room for her because so many angels had taken up residence in her light blue Toyota Corolla. We laughed and cried over so many things during the time that we got to share space on this physical plane. I love her.
What she told me one day was that it takes an entire year to learn a new skill, get comfortable with a new job or settle into a life change. When she told me that, I was looking for comfort about a new job (in the same industry I had been in for the previous 15 years) and I politely listened, thanked her for her sage observations and mentally thought "Hmmm, this is the same woman who insists on dismissing angels from her car."
My husband retired from his job of 29 years last July. Not MY change you might say, but, actually, that change in my home has affected me deeply. I have experienced tons of feelings and needed to make adjustments to accommodate the changes that I did not anticipate. I did not anticipate, for example, the fact that I would get home from my own job at 5:00 p.m. only to have him added to the dog chain that follows me around until dinner is served. I didn't expect that he would all of a sudden start getting interested in how our cupboards are organized, or how the bills get paid. I reacted to this big change in my home in a very adult way -- I spent a lot of time napping. Really, A LOT!!! I had trouble getting motivated for anything. Once he started taking the dogs on walks, I just mentally and emotionally checked out of my own life. And while I spend way too much time on the couch, what I stopped doing was spending the time walking the dogs. I kept waiting for inspiration and motivation to come walking hand in hand to my bedside and invite me to rejoin my own life.
Fast forward to my walk this week. It has been one year and after all the whining, crying, complaining, lamenting, case-building (all me), the world has normalized and I found myself, once again, happy to be on the road walking the pups and looking forward to a beautiful day.
