I’m a bit ashamed. I retired from teaching two years ago this coming June and have pretty much squandered the entire two years. So this is a confessional. I’m coming clean.
On Facebook (or any other social media), everybody’s life is amazing. Their posts are full of vacations, time spent with family, selfie’s with friends and hands-on-hips poses. What if we really documented our actual life on social media? The sadness, the arguments, times we were too lazy to leave the house? What would our social media pages look like then? Maybe that is what is in between the status updates and pictures of beaches and majestic sunrises.
When I retired two years ago and started working part time (20 hours a week) from home, I had grand visions about what I was going to do. I would write that book, get back on the bike, get right with God, volunteer, spend more time with friends and get in amazing shape. I have done none of those things. In fact – I’ve done the opposite.
I could blame it on health issues or family crises, but the truth is – I made these choices. I made these choices. I chose not to connect with friends, to not eat correctly, not exercise, not pray or go out geocaching. All of these were my choices and these choices have diminished my world. The same world that reading expanded when I grew up alone on that small hill in Louisa County. I’ve made feeble efforts to correct these transgressions but nothing major has stuck. The coffee here or there with a friend, the rare visit to gym, eating right for a day or two and a weak attempt at writing were all bandaids for a gushing wound.
While I do not regret leaving teaching, I do regret many of my choices over these past two years. I regret the effect this has had on Cookie and my family and friends. I apologize. Please forgive me. I’ll forgive myself while we’re at it.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had some great times over the past two years but it could have gone SO much better. I could have made a huge difference in my world. If wishes were fishes…. So my social media game has shown little at all of me. My gaps between the good-times-postings became longer and longer.
When I retired from teaching, the thing I looked forward to the most was – silence. Now the silence is deafening.
At age 58, I realize I don’t have an infinite number of years left on this blue dot. So today I will start to live again. No more excuses. Today I will take small steps to change all of that. So forgive me while I take Lenny for a walk and listen to my Pray-as-You-Go podcast. Pray for and with me while I take small steps in the right direction.