L's Race and Mine

This picture of L was taken on April 8, 2006. She was running for the first time in the Junior Carlsbad. She competed in the 25 yard dash with other 3 yr. olds from all over the county. I say "competed" because she really was. As she stood in classic runner's pose at the starting line, she turned to D and said in a very serious tone, almost on the verge of tears, "Daddy I want to win! I don't want to lose."

She had already envisioned bursting through the tape at the finish line. In her imagination, the crowd cheered her on and she proudly showed off her winning medal. Even at the tender age of 3, she was already trying to decide what the finish was going to look like and feel like.

I think that is where I'm at right now. It's been 3 months since I retired from my Corporate career. 3 months of feeling displaced and trying to figure out what my "new" life is supposed to look like and feel like. Don't get me wrong, it's not been all bad. I love being home with L. I'm excited that I was finally brave enough to take the plunge and become an entrepreneur. I think the uncertainty comes from this image in my mind of what life was going to be like. I don't even know if I had a clear picture. Maybe that's why I'm at times, confused.

Maybe I thought it would be like vacation. I would now have time to have hobbies. I could knit all day or do yoga every day. Finally finish my album of my post college trip, backpacking through Europe (1996) or my wedding album!

Maybe I thought it would be like a tv sitcom. Like "Friends" or something. Always hanging out with friends. Experiencing life's daily challenges together. Solving whatever issue was at hand. Never being alone. Never having "wasted" a moment. Nonstop fun. No serious worries like a mortgage, bills to pay or $12,000 in taxes that you owe the IRS. That mundane stuff doesn't happen on Grey's Anatomy.

The reality of life at home was quite different than the picture in my mind's eye. I no longer had a clock to punch. I actually had to make a schedule. And if I didn't keep to it, there was no reprimand from the boss. The only consequence was a lump in my stomach, which was probably guilt that I "should" be doing something productive. Gosh, if I wasn't showered and ready to by 7am, somehow I'd already wasted my day before it even began. If I wanted to make sure that I had time for a walk, my quiet time, showering and getting dressed so that I had breakfast ready for my family by 8am, that meant I needed to wake up by 5am!!

Even now, if I do anything for myself (nap, yoga, read, knit, watch tv, etc.) between 8am and 5pm, I feel guilty. Like somehow I'm "cheating." It may very well be over a decade of the routine of going to work and being on someone else's clock. My clock didn't start until I punched out. Perhaps I just need to remember that it takes time to adjust.

Perhaps, this is how life really does look and feel. It's not always so scheduled with all the days happenings compacted into a neat 60 minute episode. Not all problems will be solved.

My race is more the cross country variety than the 25 yard dash. There are still experiences and landscapes to see. I don't even know the complete path yet. And that is ok. Or at least I tell myself it's ok because the reality is that I like my life planned out. I like knowing what comes next. If it's fun or not. If I'm supposed to do it or not. I'm the type of person that before heading out on my first camping trip, would buy a book on how to go camping the right way. That way, I'd ensure that I participated in all the right activities, had the appropriate gear, and could say with satisfaction and all certainty at the end of the trip that it was successful. What about fun? If there is a chapter on having fun, I'm sure I would have completed all the items, and yes, it was fun.

No, I'm really not that anal and obsessive. Left to my own devices, I could definitely be that insane. However, those are just the impulses of my primitive self. The random thoughts that go through my head. Thoughts like, "is this my life?" "Is this how it's supposed to feel?" The answer is always a kind, "yes." But why, oh, why do I keep asking? Why do I feel compelled to define it? Why can't I just enjoy the moment?

L finished the race ahead of all the other girls. She was only a foot behind the other runner - who was a boy, and really fast. Victory for L did look and feel exactly as she had imagined. The crowds cheered for her. It didn't matter to her that they cheered for the last kid to cross the finish line and everyone in between. They cheered for her. Her medal was hard won. She carried it proudly on her chest and declared to anyone within earshot that she won the race.

We celebrated over a victory lunch. She wore her medal like a true champion through the entire meal.

And then we drove home and she took a nap. Her medal is now buried somewhere deep in her toy box. I can't recall seeing it for weeks. This is how life feels.