Contemplating Life

I've been retired now for a little over 6 months.   Relaxing, like Penny the cat, has become somewhat  easier.  Letting go has been easier.  When I hear about problems at my former workplace, I am reminded of how fortunate I was to retire early.

All this extra time on my hands has lead to contemplation on my direction in life.  The elephant in the room being mortality.  Not to be morose, but, my shelf-life is over half gone.  As with many instances in life, this depends on the expiration date.

I do enjoy waking up and realizing that I don't have to rush to get up.  I don't have to race to get ready for a dreaded commute to a mind-numbing cubicle in an office.  All my life I'd felt like a prisoner in those cubicles, pressed into a life that I had to endure and did not enjoy.

So, my joy should be overwhelmingly uplifting!!  Right? So WTF is wrong with me??  Is it the increasing self-doubt in myself as an artist?  Although I feel joy while painting, I also feel sadness.  Shouldn't I be happy enough?  I don't know.   Why do I get these despairing feelings of futility?  Why should or why do I keep painting?  Sometimes I'm not sure anymore.  I have come to points where I am working on a painting and I just stop.. because I can't see the reason for continuing.  Or even worse, the horrible feeling that all the years I've painted have been futile.  Not just because of the lack of monetary success, but because of the time.  Time I feel may have been wasted pursuing what I thought was the essence of my life.

"A Slight Breeze Began to Blow"
 © Cindy Rodriguez  

Oh, big Boo Hoo Hoo!  I know I should just suck it up and get on with it.  I used to be able to plow through this feeling.  To reassure myself,  I'd read up about other artists and confirm that I was one among many who've had meltdowns in self worth.

Lately, though, I feel like I should just stop completely.   Thoughts of selling all of the art supplies and other belongings that I own have crossed my mind more frequently.  Start completely over by ridding myself of stuff.  That was my intention when I retired, but the purge wasn't including all my art stuff!  Am I entering another phase of life?

Outside of the window I can see a crow has perched on a tree branch.   The branches on the tree are swaying gently in the wind.. The crow turns it's head, looking around, observing the surroundings.  The leaves are dancing in the breeze, specks of sunlight warming them. The crow opens it's beak and caws loudly.  In an instant, it ruffles its wings and flies away.

So, for now, I will be like the cat and the crow, and just contemplate..