Commedia dell'Arte: Masks (I)

The first few weeks of my so-called "retirement" have been a whole new experience, and one which is interesting, challenging and traumatic by turns. There is much food for thought here, and isn't that what this monkey brain journey is all about?

Since I retired, I have spent many hours rambling in the woods with Cassie and many hours reading, meditating, pondering, drinking tea and "just sitting". Many hours have been spent with good friends over coffee, talking about art, music and books. Many hours have been spent cleaning and polishing the little blue house from top to bottom and rearranging the books in my library, the contents of pantry and kitchen, the linen closet and and even the drawers in my bureau. All is in good order now, books in the library arrayed from left to right (or perhaps right to left), jars and packages neatly lined up in the pantry in some form of arcane order known only to me, linen closet and bureau items laundered, ironed, neatly folded and put away again.

If only I could do the same thing with the contents of this crone's rambling consciousness. After so many years of defining myself almost entirely by the work I was doing, I am now having to redefine myself in other terms, and the process is yielding moments serene, bewildering, fearful and (occasionally) full of insight. There is a small voice inquiring, "What on earth will become of you now, and what are you going to do with the rest of your life?". There is another small (and equally insistent) voice which says, "Take it easy, Cate. Just sit with these thoughts for a while - watch them and see what comes to light. There are many great adventures and creative endeavours waiting for you on the journey ahead."

I am content with the terrain covered so far in this lifetime, but slowly and surely, the masks which I have worn for almost sixty years are falling away, and how many of them there are. . .