I often think of life’s seasons in increments of twenty years. Using this formula, my winter has arrived. The time in one’s life when we begin to say good-bye to the pleasures and pretend promises of this world. An earthly exit to things that no longer matter as much to us as they once did.
Specifically, those things that once thrilled, titillated and tempted our senses and our sense of self. For me this includes food and drink (ample alcohol), sex and status, competition and complimentary commentary concerning all topics. While these longings still linger, they no longer lead me. My desire for them dying, like all things that pass into winter.
It’s about more than the thrill is gone, so to speak. It’s about deliberately saying no to things that don’t add any significant value to my life or the lives of others. Like whether or not I acquire that artifact or experience this event. No longer carrying life’s luggage of longings I never really required.
My life is less weighty with my newfound liberation of letting go of unnecessary needs or unproductive wants. My body easily affirming this decision based on decades of past decisions that weren’t always healthy for me or helpful for the people around me. Like Thoreau, I am learning the essential facts of life without a trip into the woods.
My life’s leaves are turning and withering. Exposing the nakedness of my tree; of every tree. What remains are short dark days and long cold nights. An icy hibernation in which the promise of spring remains hidden from my eyes; at least for now.
At fifty-two my corporate role became redundant. At fifty-five my company role was replaced. My professional life ending with a one-two punch in my fifties. My personal life exhausted with my struggle to express my value to this world and to myself.
In five years time; my thirty years of the corporate climb has faded. Like my recollections of college, the reality and relationships of my commercial life have receded. Recognizing that like spring, my summer and autumn have passed.
I still think about all the travel and time away from the people and the pets I loved because I believed responsibility ranks higher than relationships. Like all people, I needed to work not only to support myself but others as well. Unlike many people, I fortunately had the means to unexpectedly “retire” in my fifties.
The grind of agency life left its marks and misrepresentations on me and my memories. The politics of relationships, the pointless meetings, the preponderance of travel, the promise to constantly produce profit, the prerequisite to impress and the push to sell prescription drugs like any consumer product, even if that product was problematic.
The names and faces of past executives and employees, colleagues and clients, and thousands upon thousands of travelers and hospitality hosts are like forgotten photos. Cerebral celluloids no one will ever view again except for me. They’ll remain in mind’s vault until my body lets them go.
Thirty years of business relations with people, that with few exceptions, are no longer in my life. While they mattered in those moments, they no longer matter anymore. We were a cast of characters employed to create currency. An ensemble that once enthralled and excited me, now seems empty, like discovering Santa isn’t real.
There’s an ignorant happiness that’s lost when we confront truth. But truth isn’t about comfort, it’s about finding peace. The type of peace that prepares us to continue and complete our journey through all of life’s seasons; especially winter.
I have made peace with my past profession and my past proclivities; all of it. I am at peace knowing that time turns all seasons; all people. I know that God is love; all are loved.
Through His grace my life, and your life, are no longer seasonal but eternal. Through His goodness my life, and your life, were created for eternity. Through His love my life, and your life, will never be separated from the love of God in any season.
Peace. God loves you.
If you want to learn more about my spiritual journey, you can read or listen to my award-winning memoir Finding God in Vegas: A Gen X Spiritual Awakening; available on Amazon and all platforms in print, electronic or audio.