A number with various connotation, none of which are relevant to this reflection.
In this case it is merely a measure of longevity in years.
My longevity.
I can turn to my Facebook page as the greeting begin, or to my email as I receive notification thereof.
Tonight my wife will take me out.
The cats do not recognize the occasion.
As one who reflects, even if I have not done so here quite so often recently, this becomes an occasion for another reflection, as I enter the final year of my 7th decade upon this green marble in space.
I promise no cogent thinking to what follows below the cheese doodle.
Come along for the ride if you want.
Leading up to this day has been the awful realization that the environmental tipping point may be upon us already, as I note what is happening in Antartica, on top of the recent major changes in weather patterns in our own country.
Further clouds that could darken this day is to gaze upon the political landscape, where one can choose as occasions of despair the realization that the quality of our national political candidates is so bad in general: to think that to obtain the nomination of one of our two major parties the clown car of candidates are ignoring or obfuscating what any intelligent person should recognize about global climate change, or that a supposedly more liberal Democratic President supports so many things that are not liberal, whether it is TPP, continued used of drones for murder, or continued prosecution of whistleblowers and use of the Espionage statutes and claims of state secrets to prevent the people from knowing so much of what is being done.
And yet, not merely because of the personal occasion to celebrate, as I look at the news this morning I see much for which to be grateful. Los Angeles voters approved a $15 minimum wage - not enough, but a recognition of our need to address economic inequality. Bernie Sanders and others are calling to make higher education free or at least affordable. Here my age is relevant: when I was graduating from high school 52 years ago many public institutions charged no tuition to residents, and state legislatures were committed to supporting public education K-16.
Most of all I am delighted to see that at least in Ireland people are committed to equity, to fairness, with the overwhelming vote in that heavily Catholic country in favor of full marriage equality.
But my reflection is also of a more personal nature.
In some ways this has been a difficult year. My beloved Leaves on the Current continues to be in remission from her cancer, but she still tires. She can work a full schedule, has picked up many of her familial and professional responsibilities, but it still tires her.
Our youngest cat, Felicity, is adjusting to the loss of one rear leg, amputated due to cancer. She is no longer confined. But what reserves we had been able to build despite the debts we accumulated during my wife's cancer treatment and loss of income and my own episode a year ago when people thought I had had a stroke (it turned out to be ocular migraines) are now gone (this is NOT a call for financial assistance).
I have found the commuting 45 miles each way not to be sustainable, and thus am still in the process of looking for a teaching job closer to home. That process has been s,low and at times frustrating. I have gotten interviews in recent weeks, but as of yet no firm job offer. For one school I know they want me, but for a variety of reasons are unable to make an offer. I will hear about two more by the end of next week. One notified me yesterday that while they enjoyed meeting with me they had decided to go with another candidate.
And one, a place near my home where I would very much enjoy working, is checking my references. They may also be checking the references of others, I don't know, but at least I know they are seriously considering me. My reference at my current school could not get to doing it until mid-afternoon yesterday despite receiving it the day before, because yesterday was graduation rehearsal and the senior picnic. One way or another I will hear from that school shortly after Memorial Day.
And yesterday, out of the blue, I was informed about an opportunity for a very high paying position that would involved teaching and leadership. I have never taught in the school system involved, as I informed the person who had reached out to me, but s/he responded they were more than willing to recruit for these positions (there are several of them) among strong candidates who would be new to their system, so I fired off a letter with my CV and accompanying documents.
If I begin the summer still without a commitment for next year, it may be difficult, as I will be away for 6 weeks teaching in programs for the Center for Talented Youth. During that time I willbe able to come home briefly perhaps once or twice a week - for 3 weeks I will be an hour away in Baltimore, and for the other 3 about 90 minutes away in Carlisle PA, and able to drive home, mow the lawn, pay the bills, see my wife, before I have to turn around and go back.
All of this is preface, or if you will, an attempt to provide context for where I find myself.
What if I don't get a teaching job? We are prepared to sell the house and downsize. Knowing that might happen is an occasion to begin going through the accumulations of 41 years together, now approaching 30 years of marriage. CLothes we will no longer read, books we will never again read, dishes I inherited from my father I have never unpacked.
That kind of taking inventory and getting rid of the inessential is symptomatic of what we also must do on other levels. It applies to how we each spend our time, to what commitments apart from being with one another we continue to accept. We recognize that our time together is well past its midpoint, at least in this life (and my wife is far more sanguine about existence after temporal death than am I). She may be in remission now, but we recognize that is not a permanent condition - she is not cured. And her life has probably already been shortened somewhat. As for me, give familial history I have a life expectancy of less than 2 decades.
That does not mean I obsess about death, although I remain aware of it. Having no biological children I am at a point where I do wonder about my legacy.
While I am highly critical of my teaching and my interpersonal relationships,I can with comfort say that despite what I may find wanting on the whole there is much I have given to the world and to others that has made a positive difference. Sometimes that includes the words I have written here or elsewhere. Sometimes it is when I simply offer simple kindness - perhaps why I have chosen words relevant to that idea from HH the Dalai Lama as my sig.
I have written here far less in recent months. Partly that has been because of the effort involved in seeking a possible position for next year. But it is also in part because of living something I learned from reading the tales of the Desert Fathers, the early Christian monastics largely in Egypt and Nitria.
Once a notable bishop came to visit a famous monk, hoping for words of inspiration. After several hours he left, the monastic having said nothing.
Some of the disciples of the monk asked their Abba why he had not spoken to the bishop, and the Abba responded that if the bishop were not edified by his silence then no words he offered could be of value.
It is not that my silence is edifying to others. Rather, in applying this tale I am both the Abba and the bishop, as well the audience of disciples. I have understood that often my writing is a way of working out my own thinking, that is, of clarifying my passions, fear, understandings, etc. Yet sometimes what I need is simply to stop my rationality and give room for other things - among which one of the most important is my intuition.
I am also reminded of the "still small voice" through which Elijah experienced the presence of God. That came not in whirlwinds or thunder, but in sufficient silence to be able to recognize it.
Even when my writing here is infrequent, I write - I am rarely without a pocket notebook, and that has been true for more than 5 decades, since I was about 14-15. Much of what is jotted therein is not of great importance, but in forcing myself to write regular I hone the connection between my reflection and meditation on the one hand and my understanding on the other. Sometimes I even find words for what I intuit. Sometimes it helps me frame the questions I need to consider.
69.
Many more years than I ever expected to live.
A richness of experience that has blessed me. That richness starts with the many people I have encountered who have touched my life in many ways, sometimes challenging me, sometimes inspiring me, other times caring for me, affirming me, loving me.
I remain after almost 7 decades a shy extravert, a dangerous combination. I remain despite the unwavering love and support and affirmation of my beloved Leaves on the Current very insecure about the things that matter, an insecurity that can sometimes fuel my acting in an arrogant fashion in reaction to my true insecurity.
And yet, despite the insecurity and shyness I know I have been blessed. Some people never find a meaningful purpose to their lives. I found teaching - and my writing is also a form of teaching, this I know.
My primary classroom is my life, and my most important student is myself. In being a teacher I am of necessity also a student. Similarly, in being a writer I am also a reader.
I realize that as I look around there will always be things that could upset, anger, depress me. But there will also always be things that will inspire me, soothe me, comfort me.
It is how I can keep going without going insane, or withdrawing from reality completely.
Another year completed, another year begun.
In a sense how many already or how many still to come is almost irrelevant. I note the passage of time, stop and reflect, and then return to my most important task: living.
And in that task I have a key responsibility: how can what I do increas the peace, magnify love, offer healing?
When I reflect I am a better teacher. In part, it is because I am first a better human being.
Still flawed, still imperfect, still not all I can or should be.
But even as through reflection I acknowledge my faults and challenge myself to do better, I must offer myself forgiveness - so that I can learn how to love the creatures I encounter, human or otherwise, who themselves are flawed.
Does this make any sense? It does to me, and remember, I am my won student, my own audience.
69. Going on infinity. Still an infant, or rather, I am an adolescent seeking to return to the wonder of childhood.
Peace.