On Retirement

Since reading Chris Y’s comment and Rev Mugo’s response Thoughts on Retirement, thoughts on retirement keep appearing in my mind so I am going to write and see what is there.

I have some experience in gap time. An Illness, plus many years of stress, worsened to the point where I could no longer work. I loved my job and had dedicated a huge amount of energy to it. The shock of all the loss I felt was painful and scary. I went from full-time full-on immersion in the world of employment to being at home 24/7, to not being able to leave the house, and many times not able to leave my bed.

It felt like free falling into an abyss. My feelings were complex and contradictory. I struggled mightily against this fall yet also felt the blessed relief of not having to struggle anymore. My illness took over and, instead of defining myself by my work, I felt like ‘a sick person who was not able to work’. At first I couldn’t think I no longer work therefore what shall I do? , because there was very little I was able to do for many weeks. I found it hard to be still within these conditions. I was properly unseated!

That was 10 years ago and now, looking back, I can see that I had long ignored indicators that were telling me to slow down! But, at the time, I pushed such signs and thoughts away with justifications of ‘I have no choice, I am needed, I can keep this up if I just……’

My long convalescence was a period of learning how to listen, learning how to be within the boredom and the not knowing (who am I? what is my purpose? what shall I/can I do?). For a long time I was “under the influence of the mourning” for my working life and all that being employed brings. It is tough to no longer have that social network, that feeling of usefulness, the purpose (and the salary).

When I forgot to listen, when I allowed myself to follow old habits and behaviours, I was fortunate in that my body very quickly reacted to remind me of what I could and could not do and I had many relapses. I learnt the hard way to adapt to my new circumstances and I began to find solace in the peace and the opportunity to look at myself. Like you said, Rev Mugo, it takes time and patience…….and may I add, trust.

My situation is not unique and I had the good fortune to have a supportive husband and my Buddhist practice. My connection with Rev Mugo deepened during this period and many of our conversations focussed on these struggles and I thank her and Nigel for the love and support they gave me. I have a good life and I feel very lucky. My health is good and my current (part-time) work is sessional and I can drop it if I need to. So I am not entirely retired. Our reduced income has been much easier than I ever anticipated. The pangs of mourning still arise sometimes and I just say ‘hi’ to these feelings and I don’t hang on to them. They are just shadows now. I know that I actually have everything that I need right now, right here. I do tread more lightly; and I am with you, Rev Mugo – I too feel better than I have done when I was 20 years younger! Onward and forward I say!

Jim In Poetic Mood

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Annie and Muji are now a team.

All seems well and content over on the West Coast of Northern California….

I rise to the surface, leaving behind strands of dream images, and burst through into the pre-dawn light and cool coastal breeze coming in the window next to our bed. Annie, our newly adopted miniature schnauzer, has squeezed her way between Nancy and I. Muji, our aged miniature schnauzer, sleeps in a curl at our feet. Nancy breathes quietly, a back-beat to Muji’s snoring.
From Post by Jim Riis

And here in rural Northumberland…we have snow! And I am ill with a cold and cough. And so I’m concentrating on resting and recovering at the moment. More R & R, I guess.

Further Adjustments to Life with Annie

Annie___Muji__are_now_a_team.jpg
Annie and Muji are now a team.

I rise to the surface, leaving behind strands of dream images, and burst through into the pre-dawn light and cool coastal breeze coming in the window next to our bed. Annie, our newly adopted miniature schnauzer, has squeezed her way between Nancy and I. Muji, our aged miniature schnauzer, sleeps in a curl at our feet. Nancy breathes quietly, a back-beat to Muji’s snoring.

I’m brightly awake in this stillpoint, this moment when the ups and downs of daily life pause before changing direction. The fingers of my mind move smoothly over the inner Braille of my psyche and find: contentment, peace of mind.

Images arrive, a sampling of pictures of the family since Annie’s arrival: Annie crowding in when we pay attention to Muji, Annie’s gazelle leaps over logs at the beach, Nancy holding Annie-the-love-sponge like a baby. A progression of pictures that depict us letting Annie in, and Annie beginning to drop her insecurity and allow herself to be here. We are all unclenching a profound fist.

Annie and Muji have sorted out their dominance issues and operate with greater ease. They now double-team us for treats, walks, and mealtime reminders: Annie wags her tail and croons, while Muji tap dances in a circle. I replay this image with delight.

I now see further into the contentment that all of our natural willingness has brought into focus. It is not solely elegant creature comfort, as blissful as that is. It is the contentment of sitting in our natural and true sitting place. It is the contentment of being-with all that is arising in and around us, in this moment, as it is, in its exquisite particularity.

Annie begins stirring next to me. Her legs twitch and she barks a muffled bark deep in her throat. I’m guessing she’s dreaming of playing with the other dogs at the beach, but who knows? I do know, however, that – as this dawn brightens and the great piston of life begins to move into day – there will be continued adjustments in our lives, times of needed discipline and training for us all, and difficult times undoubtedly. And I see the possibility that all those circumstances arise within the same fundamental contentment as is here with this warm snuggle of a well-nested family.

Bodhisattvas Ease The Way

Andrew reflects in his post Easy And Pleasant Work on the matter I spoke of back in February in a post titled Give It Up.

And what I have realised is that I so often approach life expecting it to be so hard. Which is why the ‘looking up’ has always appealed – but it has still felt like it was a ‘hard’ effort to look up and not be dragged down by the seeming inevitable difficulty of life and the sense of loss foreseen with ‘letting things go’, ‘offering them up’ or even until now with ‘give it up’.

Yes, there is the refraining. The denying oneself the full range of things one desires. Undoubtedly there is the refraining from indulging in greed, hatred and delusion. Undoubtedly this is a level of keeping to the Precepts which continues day to day. And there is give it up where it is the struggle. Not give in, give up. Give up the struggle AND continue to be the best person you know how. Struggle need not be part of this so simple Way. As the quote at the end of the articles says:

I should not like to have the bodhisattva think this kind of work hard to achieve and hard to plan out. If he did, there are beings beyond calculation, and he will not be able to benefit them. Let him on the contrary consider the work easy and pleasant, thinking they were all his mother and father and children, for this is the way to benefit all beings whose number is beyond calculation.

From The Perfection of Wisdom in 8,000 Lines.

Easy And Pleasant Work

A post by Reverend Mugo from back in February has kept coming to mind for me. It was about ‘Giving it up’ (Feb. 26th). I find that teachings often burrow themselves inside me somewhere and keep on working somehow at an almost unconscious level; and so it has been with this one.

And what I have realised is that I so often approach life expecting it to be so hard. Which is why the ‘looking up’ has always appealed – but it has still felt like it was a ‘hard’ effort to look up and not be dragged down by the seeming inevitable difficulty of life and the sense of loss foreseen with ‘letting things go’, ‘offering them up’ or even until now with ‘give it up’.

Because we do have such deep patterns of comfort in our life regardless of the costs (both to ourselves and others) that may be involved. These patterns often involve (for me at least) recurring cycles of denial, craving and dependency on people, things, activities; and the idea of giving them up seems so hard. But where is all this negative expectation coming from? and why do I listen to it? Not just with big life habits but with seemingly small things. Like, eating fewer of the things that are probably not good for me (even going on a diet); breaking some of my dependency on car travel; facing and challenging my aversion to computers and the internet; being more organised with our finances; being more tidy…

So, given that things still seem different with our lives I am trying to look at just ‘giving up’ some of these things – without expectation, without looking for how hard it is going to be, and without listening to the feeling that I am doomed to fail.

And what seems to happen, as has happened so often before, is that after all the commentary has gone from my mind, far from being hard there is actually a ‘lightness’ and ease involved with giving up these patterns (or at least trying to give them up). It is as though they have weighed me down just carrying all this stuff around with me, for so, so long. Then giving it up comes with a feeling of being lifted up and maybe it is the gratitude that is doing the lifting.

Then I read this quote from The Perfection of Wisdom in 8,000 Lines, at the front of this book and it seemed to re-enforce and immediately (and massively) expand what has been slowly revealing itself to me:

I should not like to have the bodhisattva think this kind of work hard to achieve and hard to plan out. If he did, there are beings beyond calculation, and he will not be able to benefit them. Let him on the contrary consider the work easy and pleasant, thinking they were all his mother and father and children, for this is the way to benefit all beings whose number is beyond calculation.