This week I officially resigned from two volunteer positions that have taken up a lot of time and emotional energy. They were connected with two activities in my life, ballooning and my dog, that have made up a significant portion of my focus. And they might not be the last to go!
But it was time, and as I’ve always had a busy and crowded calendar. I’ve also added a short-term commitment to take their place, at least for the next couple months.
While many people make New Years resolutions centered around losing weight, giving up an undesirable habit or learning a new skill, my one resolution (and it started sometime around November) has been to reevaluate my time. Where am I spending it? What value to me or the world has that produced? What is most important to me? Where can I make the greatest contribution?
The first resignation was from my position as editor of Rastro’s breed club newsletter. Every quarter, I spend 40-60 hours or more gathering material, assembling it into the best package I can create with my 30 years of publication experience, and mailing it to about 150 club members. They seem to appreciate it, but as with any breed club, this one teems with political maneuverings and internal squabbles. More disturbing than that, however, has been the growing realization that nearly all of the 40-60 hours have found me grumbling, resentful of being dragged away from the bike or the studio or the road, and angry. So it’s time to stop.
The second exit was from the post of balloonmeister at the festival in Vermont. This year will be my 25th in that job. During the years I was actively flying, and serving as editor of Ballooning magazine, the job was a natural fit. Even after I grounded myself, that week in July has continued to be a joy. The people I work with at the resort couldn’t be more fun and supportive. And the pilots, while sometimes challenging, have become family.
But as the organization time in the months before the festival gears up again, and as I sadly declined a great ride in Norway scheduled for that same week in July, I realize it’s time to move on. Like the decision to stop flying, this one feels right. When I told the organizers yesterday, I didn’t feel sad, just relieved and at peace.
So, my personality having not changed from its energetic enthusiastic self, what will I do with all this time? Quilting, traveling, riding. Dozens of quilts are screaming to come out of my fingers, and time in the studio liberating them feels to me like fine wine feels to many other people I know. The world is full of places I want to see, preferably from the seat of a motorcycle. At the opposite end of the spectrum from the instinctive understanding and ease I felt in the air, the bike is a challenge for me, and that challenge in itself feeds my need to learn and grow.
The commitment I have added is gathering up quilts to send to Christchurch for people who have been displaced by the dreadful earthquake of February 22. I loved New Zealand. I’ve felt drawn there for years, even before our trip. This project can give concrete help to people who need it, through an activity that is part of my soul.
I am 54 years old as I write this. I am fit, healthy, and financially secure. But face it – I am in the last half of my life. So continuing to invest my finite resource of time in activities that really don’t matter anymore makes no sense.
Someday is right now. Woo Hoo!
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