tequila sunset...

in my mind, retirement was always synonymous with freedom

once i didn't have to work, or worry about work, i would be free to do whatever i felt like doing.

and so far, that's been true.

however, now that i am almost 2 years into it, i have developed a problem with staying engaged and active and interested in all the possibilities. 

so, in an effort to keep my butt off the couch, i put my butt in the driver's seat 

and went for a sunset picture ride yesterday.

i was actually looking to return to the amazing magical feeling of last winter 

when the snowy owls kept me actively engaged for months on end.  

instead of snowy owls, i found an empty tequila bottle.

it was left on the barrier wall on the edge of the beach parking lot. 

at first, i was annoyed that someone left their litter behind.  

and then i realized it was a very cool looking bottle.

and that it might look good if i shot it where it was 

but from a low angle so the sunset was behind it. 

and it did. 

i was happy, it was a special moment

 and when i got home and looked at the image, i smiled

a pretty picture always makes me smile. 

this morning, however, as i looked at this image, i saw more than just a pretty picture.

i saw a way to look at this stage in my life.  

the sunset years

i can be annoyed at other people's impact on me and my environment.  

or i can see it as an opportunity to see things i may not have seen.  

this beautiful bottle, on the ledge, in the golden glow of sunset - i would never have seen this if not for someone else.  

i can sit at home, on my warm couch, with my husband (who begged me to stay home).  

or i can go see what i can see.  

to wander and ponder at will, no schedule, has been a lifelong quest of mine.  

to sit on my warm couch has not been a lifelong quest.  

i need to leave the comfort zone. 

now today this minute. 

wander then ponder.  but don't neglect the wander.

and then tequlia.

 the wild stuff.  

i need to cultivate some wild stuff.  

warm couches, cozy fires and comfort food are all wonderful and i am lucky to have that.  

but i need to cultivate some wildness to make the golden years a growing stage of life.  

i do not want to slow down or lay low.  

i want to expand and grow and glow like a tequila sunset.  

right down to the last drop.