I wrote what follows in 2015 and just came across it again today when I spent some time exploring my writings of long ago. This one stood out even before I clicked on the file to see the entire text. The timing made me smile. It relates a time when I took leave of work to rest, and thus it mirrors my recent step into retirement.

Both exits, I must confess, were somewhat dramatic in their own way. Some years ago, I might have been embarrassed by this. Now, I understand that growing tired and needing a pause are real experiences worthy of notice, and worthy of appropriate action.

The power we have to start fresh is nothing short of amazing. The right we have to do so is often forgotten, or worse, dismissed.

2015 – Journaling with prompts: Turtle – Arrow – House

Walk with confidence, I thought. Walk with confidence. Come to think of it, there was no reason to walk in fear. No dark alleys or enemies in sight. Only the day ahead, and choices to make.

I made a choice that day. More than that. I understood my choices better than ever before. It was something I wrote in my morning journal, and something a friend said when I asked her how I appeared or came across whenever I was able to take more than just a couple of days off.

Her words startled me. She didn’t say, “You looked more rested.” She said, “You had more self-confidence.” That’s an entirely different layer. I had dropped something along the path to basic survival needs: Not the confidence that allows one to know what to do, but the type that allows one to be authentic.

I took the plunge today (written in 2015). With little beating around the bush, I announced I was stepping away from work for now. No long explanation. Just the facts. I’m tired. No, I will not budge. It’s my life. I’m claiming it. I am choosing the set and characters from now on.

I took a trip to the hardware store’s toy section to secure a small celebratory gift. I came home with Story Cubes (a writing prompts game), and Cherry Garcia ice cream. I am being self-indulgent tonight. I may even watch a movie. Clear my mind completely. Claim my time, my freedom, my playroom.

I drop three cubes on the table. One shows a turtle. The next two, an arrow and a house. The turtle’s head stretches out of its shell, fearless, curious; it aims straight for its destination. The shell shields it from adversaries, bad influences and the weather. That’s enough. It does not give up. It goes where it must go. Unhurried. I will be a turtle from now on.

The arrow points left, to the past. But it also points to the cube showing a house. A return home. A return to my roots. Not the ones in another time and place. Not the ones in my youth or my yesterdays. My return home is a return to my authentic self.

There is no rush. I will get there. My intentions will be my map.