A Second Chance

Letting myself do what I wanted all along

Being an elder now and looking back, it can be easy for me to ruminate on regrets, dreams that I wished I could have followed up on, roads taken that were the best I could figure out at the time, but not really in tune with my soul.

I have felt regret, wished that I had known better, wish that I had been stronger and better able to handle all the doubts and dreams. 

I had a career as a social worker. It was a decent career, and I hope that I provided some help and hope to others along the way.

But to be honest, my passions were along different lines. The choices were not apparent to me then, and I got into what I thought that I needed to do to survive, to go for a degree that I could put to good use, to get a job, make a living, save for my retirement, and try and make a good life as it had been defined for me.

I got married. I loved my husband. But, with the wisdom of hindsight, I now realize having been very sheltered as a child, I was in no way mature enough to even know what marriage or commitment to someone else was about. I was married for 12 years and am grateful for the experience and the connection. My ex-husband and I have a lovely, authentic connection these days, reaching out to leave messages on holidays and special anniversaries. He is remarried and I completely respect that and would never do anything to hurt or change that. But it has been healing for me to have some contact again after all these years. Love remains, even if it changes forms.

Remembering my passions

I have always loved to draw, to write, and have always loved animals. 

I wasn’t allowed to really have pets much as a child and didn’t really know about careers where I could work with them, my intellect and background telling me I needed to be realistic and do a “real” job.

So, here I am retired. I am writing now and I am so grateful to have found my voice and a way to express it that feels like coming home. I paint and find such joy in letting that flow through me. 

I have been volunteering at our local zoo for years. I was on the Behavior Observation Team with the elephants where I got to spend hours just watching, recording behavior, and being in the sacred presence of these animals as well as being around the wonderful young zookeepers who loved them and took such good care of them.

Our elephants are no longer with us, the last of them having been moved to an elephant sanctuary in Tennessee. It is a wonderful place for him, and I am happy for him, even though I miss him so very much. I want what is best for him, as we all did. Once he became our last elephant left, we knew we had to move him. Elephants, even males who are more solitary, need to be around other elephants. He is doing well and has begun making friends there. I will never be able to adequately describe what it has been like to stand in front of this sacred creature, with barriers in between us of course, simply being in each other’s presence.

Once our last elephant left, I decided to stay at the zoo and try to learn how to be a docent. This zoo does wonderful conservation and rescue work and also works very hard to help educate people about wildlife, teach them respect for these creatures that we share the earth with, and hopefully instill a new sense of connection and responsibility inside them.

I have a lot to learn, and hope that my brain can retain enough information. I love interacting with the guests, and of course, I love being around the animals. They bring me peace. They help me connect with my soul. 

I also have wanted to volunteer at a local wildlife hospital, and finally got a call to come in for their volunteer training. The timing was not great, given that I am training for the docent position at the zoo, but I figured I would try. I didn’t want to lose the opportunity to become part of their caring organization. There is a lot to learn there as well. Here I go…let’s see how my brain holds up!

Sitting still at home the other day, I realized that I have given myself a second chance to go back and make different choices as to how to create my life. I have allowed myself permission to do the things that I pushed aside in my earlier years. There is a bittersweetness about this, as it comes later in life and my body cannot always do everything that my younger self would have been able to jump into, but I can still participate. I can still go and do what I want to do. I can still be part of it. I can give myself now what I wish I had the chance to get before. 

We are still here. 

I can write and let my soul finally speak in the way that she loves best…through written word. And I am grateful to have found one of my tribes in those who respond and resonate with what I may write. 

I can paint and allow that part of me to express herself and give her room to play and simply be. Once I begin painting, it feels as if things flow through me and not from me. Writing can feel the same…a sense of connection to a depth in me that is greater than just me. 

 I can be around animals, teach about them and allow that part of me to finally come home as well. 

If not now, when?

It is never too late to create the life that you want, even if it must be modified with the realities of aging. We can still do what we can. We can still say this is who I am.  

I encourage you to ask yourself what did you love, who were you that you may have pushed down and aside? Are there things that perhaps still call to you? Dance? Music? Art? Is there a kind of work where you may be able to volunteer, even if it no longer can be your career? It can still be the space where you express yourself, where you give yourself permission to have the voice that you silenced so long ago. 

I invite you to dream about that and maybe take a tiny step toward it.

 Perhaps one day, you will be sitting there and realize that you finally gave yourself what you had asked for so long ago. 

There is still time, even if it may take a different form. You are still alive, still here.