9
What's Next?
Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.
—Carl Bard
What do we do now that life as we knew it is over? What do we do now that no one is waiting for us to kick off the early morning meeting? Is there a place to hang our hat, so to speak? Is there any place we are needed? Or are we finished, simply finished? Not at all.
These are good questions, I think, for us to consider as we round this corner of life. The big job has been packed away. Now we are searching for activities that will keep us vibrant, engaged, fulfilled, and happy. “Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be,” says Abraham Lincoln. Activities that offer all four (vibrancy, engagement, fulfillment, and happiness) are often intensely focused on the lives of others; usually others who have been bombarded by difficulties. The opportunities to volunteer to make a difference in the lives of people in your community are many. And too often the response to these opportunities is negligible.
Perhaps you are wondering why an essay on this topic is here in this book, a book that focuses on the rest of our journey. But the answer should be obvious. For many, the journey to this stage of life has been meaningful, profitable, and fulfilling. The fear about getting out of bed on day one of the next stage of life will be traumatic for some, because there is no office to go to, no letters to dictate, no meetings to hold, no advice to be offered. The connection to others was the glue that enriched our lives, but many never realized that involvement with others was the key that opened the door to one's heart. But it was. The heart is waiting to be opened again. So don't tarry in the “what's next?” stage too long.
I'm offering this idea to you because so much remains to be done to make life even tolerable for millions of people. People in this country, as well as people all over the continent, are living in poverty. Millions are starved for food, medicine, education, clean water, decent housing. I just read an article today about a world food program that is run by a former colleague of mine. It's their goal to ship 240,000,000 meals next year. That's a huge number, but it's a drop in the bucket when we consider there are seven billion people on the planet, and research shows that at least 1.02 billion of them go to bed hungry every day. Every day.
If you want to make a difference, and most of us do, look at the listings of volunteer opportunities in your local newspaper or online. Want to help children? Be a tutor or a mentor. Want to help with the elderly or the infirm? Visit a local nursing home and ask what you might do. Contact the food bank in your town and see what help they need. Or the homeless shelter. Or a meals-on-wheels program. If cooking is your thing, see what you can do at a kitchen serving the homeless. The opportunities to help others are many. And any help any one of us gives helps us too. Giving back is what makes our own lives rich and meaningful.
On the evening news, nearly every day the closing story is about a person or family, sometimes even a child, who has extended themselves to make a difference in the lives of others. One of the remarkable things about each person is that they don't feel heroic at all. Their humility is evident. What others do isn't beyond the reach of any of us. Maybe our skills are different, but wherever there's a desire, there is a way to make that difference. And the payback is tenfold. Tenfold.
If you are one of those individuals who is trying to figure out what to do now that your life has allowed you so much leisure time, begin by making a list of what you'd want someone to do for you if your circumstances were dire, or even if you were simply lonely. What comes first to mind? A good conversation, perhaps? Someone to simply sit with you as a listener to whatever you want to talk about? How about a friend to take you out for a drive, maybe through the neighborhood of your childhood? Or to go for a meal with you at one of your favorite restaurants?
Looking through the photos of your past, sharing the back story of the pictures, would be a great gift of time to many. Maybe having someone help you write letters to people you haven't forgotten, or to those you have a fond memory of. Perhaps you have always wanted to take a painting class, but prefer sharing the experience with someone else. Nursing homes or assisted living facilities are no doubt filled with folks who would love to accompany you, making two people happy at the same time.
The ways to continue the interactions that have always made your life rich and rewarding don't end just because you no longer receive a paycheck. Indeed, just the opposite is true. Now you can fulfill your personal passion and draw someone else into your dream at the same time. Witnessing another, while being witnessed, makes for a sacred experience, one not to be lived lightly.
What joy this new part of our journey can bring if we decide to show up for it. Begin a list in your journal of all the things you can imagine doing. Perhaps even some that seem a real stretch for you. Be daring. Be creative. Be an even better you than heretofore.
Check in here or elsewhere after you have begun reaching out. How do you see your life changing? What's the most exciting part of the change?
10
Forgive Yourself Completely
Is there really a need for us to forgive ourselves? Some may think not, and it's an individual decision, certainly. The trajectory of my life, however, has clearly shown me that forgiveness is necessary. I walked myself into many dark alleys; hung out with many questionable men; and straddled the very thin line between barely acceptable and totally unacceptable behavior for more than twenty years, from ages sixteen to thirty-six, when I finally looked at who I had become and got sober. That I lived to tell my story is due to the presence of “hovering angels,” I'm convinced. And I'm grateful to be telling the story, rather than having my story told by someone else.
As a child I never considered the possibility that someone was watching over me. That idea wasn't ever addressed in my family, around the supper table or at bedtime. Mother didn't lead us in prayer. Nor was grace spoken when we gathered to eat, except on special occasions when Uncle George thumped the Bible hard on behalf of us all. I don't believe my family of six was a godless family, but we didn't claim reliance on God either. I simply never considered his presence. Nor did anyone else, to my knowledge. Praying about a decision I had to make was a very foreign idea. A very foreign idea indeed.
How different my life might have been if I had lived as though God were my daily companion, available for consultation on a regular basis. Many decisions would have been different. Many behaviors never attempted. Many encounters avoided. Many reasons for feeling grateful would have presented themselves. Many actions for which I had to eventually forgive myself would have been sidestepped. The interesting thing, however, is that I believe wholeheartedly that whatever any one of us needs to learn will make its way to us. In time. Absolutely.
Having that belief as one of my treasured truths in these last few decades of living has given me a sense of wellbeing, coupled with the assurance that I will be presented with every experience I need, now and in the years ahead. And because I trust that the God of my understanding will be involved, I'll not be creating unnecessary drama or reasons for self- or other forgiveness. In case this sounds like forgiveness is something we want to avoid, I want to offer assurance that forgiveness is an act of joining with our inner self or with those around us. It's a kind gesture, always. It's honorable, loving, and a symbol of selfacceptance. It's a way of saying to the God of our understanding, “I know you are present, here and now, and I am grateful.”
One of the things I have had to undertake, since becoming sober, is to create a list of opportunities