Again, the week has rushed past without catching me up in anything. In a way, I'm pleased about this as I feel quite happy sitting, dipping my toes, by the side of my imagined stream. I lack motivation - my get up and go has gone or maybe slipped down the back of the sofa. Perhaps this is a good thing - my addiction to adrenalin is not sated but perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps the fact that this does not worry me or motivate me to stir things up, proves I am finally getting into what retirement is all about. I never subscribed to colleagues theories that I would not find time in retirement to do all the things I wanted; it seems my suspicions on this were warranted. There are many things I could be doing but none, it appears, that I must be doing. I have the means, energy and, I suppose, ability to do anything that I take on board - I think - and it just seems that I lack any challenges. Perhaps this is not just adjusting to retirement - could it be that I am getting old?
I have never had any real idea what being old was. Army life insulates one from this - there are no old people in an organisation where almost everyone leaves the community when about 40 years of age. In my sphere of civilian life, retirement at 60 was quite usual and people dropped off the horizon when they left the company. Where I live, one seems to identify old people as those with some form or level of disability. Problems in walking, general mobility, sight, hearing - almost all the old people I know here have one or other of these difficulties. I cannot really identify with them in these respects. I accept that 72 is quite aged - 2 over God's ration - but see myself as worn and used up rather than old - whatever that means.
Oh well. Live with it. We seem to be moving at Captain Kirk's warp speed; by the time I have proof-read this it will be Friday.
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