What does it look like to step up now?

Earlier this year, I took a role with an organization I have been affiliated with for the past several years. I love the work they are doing and when an opportunity came up to take a more formal position, I was intrigued. The position seemed perfect for me.

I have learned to be slower with my ‘yes’ in these situations. I have always been a person who leaps first and asks questions later. I spent some time thinking it through, talking to my people, talking to their people and sitting with the idea. The more I talked about it and the more I considered it, the more convinced I was that this was the right place for me.

It was a great role, but a few months into it, I realized that I really didn’t have the capacity for this type of work. I was increasingly feeling conflicted with the reality of my schedule and the requirements to align with the structure and constraints of other people’s schedules and needs. When my doctor’s office called to schedule knee replacement surgery, I saw the writing on the wall. And I resigned.

The decision to step down was humbling. I wondered what I missed in the discernment process I had gone through. I knew I had let down a number of people (always painful for a recovering people-pleaser.) I felt a little lost and confused about it all. And I also knew resigning was the right decision.

Life keeps moving though, and I had my trip to Ireland to focus on planning, experiencing and recovering from (jet lag is not my friend). In the back of my mind, the question has been lingering, what am I supposed to be doing now with this one wild and precious life?

My website and Zoom account both came up for renewal recently, and I wondered what would happen if I step down from the work I am doing completely? Is it time to retire? Rewire? Reinvent? There’s a lot written about the shift that happens in our third act of life. It’s a massive transition and I am living it and working in this space simultaneously.

What I’m experiencing and I am curious if you relate, isn’t a desire to stop the work I do, but a need to keep things both flexible and focused. Those two ideals seem to live in tension with each other.

Last week I saw two specialists and my husband saw one. We are both relieved that we are currently in the “everything looks good, but we’ll keep an eye on it” stage. How fitting for all of my life.

At the same time, I know how tricky this season of life can be. There are so many messages about easing up and slowing down. And yet, if there was ever a time for voices of wisdom in our world, it is now.

What if the challenge of this season isn’t simply to step down? What if it’s learning where we are being called to step up?

We don’t need to do more or prove ourselves, we do need to offer the gifts of our wisdom.

I think we need to become highly selective. The work needs to be aligned with our gifts, our values, our energy, and our realities. What is the work that only you can do? It doesn’t need to be online or on stage. It could happen in your backyard or around your table.

The more I reflect on my decision to resign, the more I realize it wasn’t really about stepping away from meaningful work. It was about creating space for the work that feels most deeply mine to do.

And that has me thinking about elders.

Not simply older people, but people who are willing to bring their wisdom, experience, compassion, and presence to their families, communities, and the world around them.

We need elders.

This summer, I want to explore what elderhood means in a culture that doesn't always know what to do with aging. What does it mean to become a wise elder? What does it mean to become a crone? How do we embody these roles in ways that are aligned with our values, our resources, our personalities, and the realities of our lives?

I don’t have the answers yet.

But I think they are questions worth exploring!