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This past February 25th, I was sitting at my kitchen table eating breakfast, drinking coffee, and preparing to write my daily “Dear Goddess” letter, a journal of sorts. Before I write it, I read a few inspirational passages that help guide me on my path.  

That cold winter morning Melody Beattie’s words from More Language of Letting Go, published in 2000, woke me up like no strong cup of Joe has ever woken me up. Maybe because at the end of March,I would turn 75, but her words that day riveted my soul even though I have read them each of the 22 years since they were published.

“I was astonished by the number of experiences I’ve had,”  she told a friend.  

Melody went on to list some of them. “I’ve been a pauper, drug addict, a codependent, a Midwestern housewife, a single parent on welfare, a secretary, a journalist, etc.”

Wow. Looking out the window by my kitchen table, I got to thinking about my own life. I, too, was astonished by the number of experiences I’ve had. It was an amazing glance back. I was in awe and in a state of gratitude. Never as a child or a young adult would I have guessed what was ahead. Like Melody, I have lived through both good and painful times. And, as Melody wrote, I came to the conclusion, “There’s nothing left for me to do.”

In the reading, Melody’s friend piped up and reminded her there was one thing she wanted to do that she hadn’t yet: Jump out of airplanes. Melody then goes on to write how she began to parachute.

I got up and made myself another cup of coffee. I have never in my life wanted to parachute out of airplanes, but what more did I want to do with my life?

After a couple of swigs of my freshly made second cup of coffee, I picked up my notebook and decided I try and figure out what was next. But, first I wanted to write down what I had done in my 74 years on this planet. Here is an abbreviated listing of my astonishing exploration: red-headed NICU patient, gray-haired grandmother, Monroe Street children’s circus organizer (age 8), researcher on an oil-shale project, fighter for tobacco laws in Colorado, library grant writer,  Al-Anon sponsor, newspaper columnist, Heidi, Robyn and Justin’s mother, nonprofit executive director, soccer mom, La Leche League leader, pet mom to 7 dogs and 6 cats, traveler to 11 countries, and 49 states, gardener, public relations executive, mystery writer, homeowner, divorcee, pickleball player, lover of old houses.

Oh, my. I looked out my window again and spotted a hawk high in my neighbor’s tree. And to think, I thought at this age I would be a married woman of more than 50 years, a woman planning each week her next Sunday dinner for friends and family, a retired part-time college professor, owner of a bungalow near Denver’s Washington Park, bridge player, and—amazingly, a tourist to five European countries in seven days!  

Of course, I never dreamed I would own a computer, let alone have one on my wrist (Apple Watch) more powerful than the computer I used at the University of Colorado in the early 1970s. 

So, now what?  

I think I’ll keep on, keeping on and doing what I enjoy doing. This includes writing, pickleball, gardening, travel, enjoying my teenage grandchildren, living on the amazing western slope of Colorado, walking my dog, yoga, hugging my cat, etc. 

And, we will see. It seems to me that so much of what I have done were opportunities that occurred to me, writing this daily letter.  

Where have you been?

Where are you going?

Copyright – Elizabeth J. Wheeler, March 10,  2022

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