This title is appropriate for several reasons. The annual migration of the long warm(ish) days of summer has come. Soon the days will be so light lite that I’ll struggle to see the sun at all. Arriving in the dark as well as leaving from work. We everyone I pass will be coated head to toe in some sort of protective fabric or device. An umbrella, boots, the puffy coats, heavy socks. Wool, and lots of it. It’s cumbersome to commute like this. Every movement accompanied by a swish of coat, the loss of manual dexterity of mittens. The difficulty of headphone management around the glasses and the hat. Everyone rustles together in the train car and the sheer volume of down and poly fill mutes the sounds as we roll as if we rode in a box of cotton balls.

Yeah, first world problems.

This contributes to me stewing more since there is less time outside moving. Not in the culinary sense, either. I spent such a good summer seeing the sights of Portland and Salt Spring and places in between. I’m having a difficult time letting it go. Not like the previous three summers where I felt I was emerging from a coma. Anemia took a big swipe at me and knocked me down. I’m no longer feel like I need oxygen going down the street.

The last 8 or 9 months have felt a little bit like a coming out party, and you can interpret that anyway you like. I wasn’t feeling anxious or upset just happy and engaged.

But the debt ceiling, fiscal cliff dust up started up my engines of FUD. Fear, uncertainty and doubt. I’ve been limping along ever since. It doesn’t help that I’m 56 and can’t quite manage to figure out what I want to be or do when I grow up. My daughter, who is newly in the work world, is having a difficult transition too. I’m coaching her, but it feels lack luster. Am I the right person? Is just hang in there and make work a daily service a good coaching strategy?

I wonder what my path should be to model a good end of career trajectory. Or should I even factor what it appears as into the equation?

More to come.

Advertisements