Standing in Liminal Time

2/1/19

On March 12th I will close the office door on my forty-five year career as a clinical social worker. What a privilege it’s been.  I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to be in a helping relationship with so many courageous people who entrusted me to help them solve problems, to deal with the challenges of mental illnesses, to navigate life’s twists and turns, to make better lives for themselves and their families. I’ve learned so much from them and from the exceptional colleagues I’ve been fortune to associate with in each practice setting.

I’m ready for this change. I’m tired and want to use my energy for different things now. Yet the process is proving harder than I’d expected, more emotional, with more anxiety.  It feels very strange, sometimes scary to apply the “R” word to myself.  Retirement. What’s that going to look like?

I am standing in liminal space.  Liminal derives from the Latin word limen, meaning threshold. Liminal spaces can be physical, like  a door way, a stairway, a crossroads; a crossing over space.  But my liminal space is an emotional, psychological  in between place that is a transition time, a passage from one  status to another. I am in the process of leaving something behind but I am not yet in the something new .

Leavings and letting go are not my strongest suit. I form strong attachments. I feel emotionally vulnerable in this liminal space. This quote from Sarah A. Allen captures  my experience and reassures me.

“She understood that the hardest times in life to go through were when you were transitioning from one version of yourself to another.”

By the time one is nearly 70, there have been many of those times, I remind myself.

This liminal time, and the next which will be when I close that office door for good, are also openings, opportunities for  my spiritual growth. Recently I’ve been exploring what it means to surrender. This time is certainly an invitation to that practice, an invitation to trust the process, to let go of role and identity based on work, on doing. It feels uncertain, disorienting like time in the wee hours of the morning when one rests in between sleep and wakefulness, when  nothing feels solid.  I want to be fully present in this time, to “Honor the space between no longer and not yet”, as Nancy Levin writes. This is a time and space where something new can emerge if I can allow myself to stand still with faith and trust that the process will unfold as it is meant to do.

If you’re standing in liminal space, too, this meditation by John O’Donahue  may speak you as it does to me.

 

Art as a Spiritual Practice

The “something new” I’ve chosen to try in February is a three evening class series called Art as a Spiritual Practice offered at Evenstar’s Chalice (“The place to BE for Everyday Enchantments and Inspiration.”) in Ypsilanti, MI. The teacher has a great name: Rocky Rains. He’s described as an “artist with over 40 years’experience as a Traditional Folk Magick practitioner”. Beyond “artist”, I had no idea what that means. But that’s part of the adventure! He’s further described as “a reliable guide for walking the pathof spiritual art making.” Guidance will surely be needed by this participant! The class is described as being for folks with any level of artistic experience. Thank goodness. We will use drawing, painting and craft work to learn how art can be prayer, ritual and a way to encounter the Divine. We are invited to learn how to access the creative force within and our inner wisdom and intuition. Becoming more intuitive is one of my ongoing goals.

Our first meeting was held on 2/1/18. The topic was Pan-Cultural Shamanism. Shamanism and shamanic journeying are interests of mine so this seemed auspicious. Rocky  (Shadow Bear) shared that he is a practitioner of “the cunning arts” and explained briefly about his background with both Native American and other teachers. According to Rocky:

Europeans and Africans in British North America that came here in the 17th and 18th centuries brought with them the spiritual, religious and magical their traditions of their homelands. The blending of these traditions with those of the Native Peoples of North America became the bedrock for future iterations of American folk magic.

Rocky himself is a blend of Scots-Irish and Cherokee heritage. His ancestors were Appalachian mountain folk.

After smudging each of us, Rocky took us through a guided journey in which we were directed to observe and experience certain things that we would remember when we returned. The journey was fairly short but the imagery was vivid. Thus inspired, we each sewed and decorated a personal medicine bag (aka healer’s pouch, bundle, mesa in the Andean shamanic tradition, spirit bag) of leather. This is a spiritual container in which to place one or more sacred or meaningful objects. Rocky gave us each a small bundle of red material containing objects and herbs from various shamanic cultures (like tobacco,corn,soil from a liminal spot, Mugwort plus 16 more) to place inside.  We can add more if we wish. I felt inspired to decorate the front of my pouch with an image related to a symbol I saw in the journey. This symbol was on a door leading further into spaces that we did not explore during this journey. Rocky also gave us each a piece of handmade parchment on which to draw this symbol before placing it into our pouch. We each received a master key as well.

It surprised me that a relatively brief guided journey could be so detailed and rich. When making the bag I did feel that I was in touch with some of my inner creativity. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t  engage a process of working through my usual anxieties about right brain activities: “Will I do it right?”, “I’m not as creative as everyone else.”, “Mine isn’t going to turn out.”, etc. But it didn’t take too long to let go and just have fun with it.

You may wonder how this relates in my mind to preparing for retirement. Here’s how I see it. I’ve always enjoyed trying out new activities that are different from what I’m most comfortable with. Over the years I’ve done things like altered book making, tried hand quilting and weaving on a rudimentary loom, taken classes in medical intuition, done ecstatic dance, and gone zip lining and white water rafting, for example. As I approach retirement I want to really lock in and reinforce this behavior so that I can avoid getting into ruts and stagnation. I want to keep learning and experiencing, to take this way of living into retirement. I’ve been a lifelong learner; somehow it seems especially important right now to embrace this value and identity. This likely reflects some fearful thoughts I have related to retirement and aging that bear exploration. (That theme keeps cropping up so its time to get out the journal, Byron Katie’s The Work “One Belief at a Time” Worksheet, talk it through, etc.)

The theme of the next class is the  Divine Feminine, something dear to my heart. But…. we’ll be painting!  Stay tuned to see if my right brain can carry the day and take my hand along with it.

A Visit to the Social Security Ofice

February 7, 2018
On Friday last Dale and I headed for our local Social Security office. Since he is retiring on 2/9/18, his employer provided Blue Cross will become secondary to Medicare as our primary insurance carrier. We each signed up for Medicare Part A when we hit 65 but didn’t need Part B. Now we do.

Since starting my professional career in 1974 I’ve almost always had insurance through my employers.There was a brief time, when I was at home for three years raising young children, when my now ex-husband
provided my insurance through his work. When we separated it was very important to me to get a job with health insurance and other good benefits.

When Dale started talking with me about the possibility that he could put me on his insurance as his domestic partner, at his expense, it meant a lot to me. This was a generous offer that further and tangibly reflected the nature of our relationship. Practically speaking, it also means that after
retirement I will continue to have Blue Cross insurance. I won’t have to purchase a secondary insurance on the open market. My employer of 30 years does not offer this benefit to retirees. I still remember when, as a much younger person, I realized that fact with dismay and shock. Ironically, I am employed by a large health care system.

At the same time I registered a little anxiety at the idea of giving up my own insurance. In November, when it was time for me to select benefits for 2018, I nervously asked Dale more than once if he was sure it had gone through, that I would really be covered on his plan. Despite reassurances I didn’t relax until I saw the print out of his benefit selections. I still don’t have my own insurance card. It feels weird to be carrying a copy of a card with his name on it but it’s worked so far when I’ve had to use it.

I’ve also been surprised to realize that the idea that Medicare will be my primary insurance come March doesn’t feel very good. I’m trying to understand this. On the one hand I’m very grateful for Medicare, for myself, other older adults and for people with disabilities like many of my clients. On the other hand, I think I must have some ego wrapped up in having  had excellent insurance connected with my work. I’ve never used Medicare Part A, never had to pull out that card in a doctor’s office like other senior
citizens do. I’ll be sixty nine next month but I feel far younger. I know I’m aging. I can feel it, but I guess I don’t want to be looked at as “old”.  What being “old” means to me  warrants lots of investigation. Medicare is challenging my denial, darn it!

Lunch Hour Musings 1/17/2018

Like many of the projects that excite me but go on the back burner “for now”, my blog barely began before it was neglected. Initially, I thought that I had to wait for my son to design my website so I kept putting it off. Since his paid work comes first, I still don’t have the website despite his best intentions and generous heart. Then other things took my time and attention; life happened.

I’m still working, writing this on lunch break. It seems a good time to embrace my original plan. Things are changing. My fiancée has decided to retire next month. A number of things came together for him and he is ready. I’m very happy for him, that he is making this happen. Honestly, I’m envious, too. That’s probably not my best-self reacting but my humanity showing up. I’m getting past it but there was an initial phase I had to work through when I thought “Wait a minute….I’m older and was supposed to retire first!” We had talked about me retiring in 2019 while he continued working part time for another year. That plan needed to change and my thoughts and feelings along with it.

The end of March 2019 is the retirement date I’m aiming for, a little more than a year away. This seems a good time to blog, to prepare, to reflect, to explore. An acquaintance decided on her 50th birthday to try (at least) one new thing each month. This idea appeals to me. I plan to focus my choices within the framework of preparing to retire in the broadest sense.

My activity for January (and one Saturday morning a month through April) will be attending a gallery education class (the Dr. Dave Gallery Group) with two friends, at the nearby Toledo Museum of Art. We meet for the first session on 1/20/18. I’m excited! Learning in an art museum seems to be the perfect way of engaging both the left and right brain hemispheres in one activity.

I’ve read that as we age the two halves of our brains communicate more with one another than they do when we are young, perhaps helping to compensate for some negative effects of aging. Science Daily reported on 9/17/17 that a Duke University Dept. of Neurology study tested “some controversial ideas about how the brain reorganizes as we age.” Simon Davis, Ph.D., stated that the results suggest that “the aging brain maintains healthy cognitive function by increasing bilateral communication.”

I’m all for that! I want my brain to be as healthy and functional as possible now and during my “golden years”. If Dr. Dave’s class can help with that at the same time I’m having fun with friends and nurturing my soul by viewing beautiful creations, who could ask for anything more?

Me, a blogger?

I’ve never been known as someone who embraces change quickly, an early adapter. Even though blogging has been around for ages now I haven’t even been a late adapter! I never thought I’d have any interest in blogging. I enjoy journaling but that’s private. (Likely my blog will be, too, but still….) And what do I have to say anyway? Some of my self defeating beliefs have been that bloggers must be brilliant, exceptional individuals who have crossed the Pacific in a dugout canoe, invented the 3-D printer, or solved world hunger.

However, I live with a couple of techy guys. my partner Dale who is a computer programmer and shaman who helped get the internet up and running back in the day, and my son Josh who has a  a web design and reputation management business. These guys have been plotting to entice, push or otherwise lovingly bully  me into the brave new world beyond email, Facebook and web surfing. So… much of this afternoon was spent looking at gazillions of possible color palates for my website. Who knew there were so many colors, shades, tones and combinations! My mind was definitely boggled, which didn’t help my decision making problems any easier. I narrowed down my possibilities and, after driving Dale and Josh a little crazy, decided to sleep on it.  Then I needed to learn how to get into Lissa Perrin.com and how to do at least enough to write this post. Whew! My non-techy sixty seven year old brain is full.

But I feel great! I’m learning something new, one of my favorite activities, and even have some ideas cooking for what I’d like to write about in this pre-retirement phase of my life. So, if you feel like checking in on the thoughts, feelings, activities and adventures that are part of this stage of my life, stay tuned. I have no doubt that at least the site itself will look fabulous when Josh gets it put together.