I will be the first to admit that I failed at retirement. Until a month ago I was battling mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and a host of other -lys, a triple-dip of ennui, grief, and displacement. I didn’t feel like myself, wasn’t enjoying the minute/hour/day/week and still felt after well over a year that I was visiting North Carolina but not really living there. I missed working 60-70+ hour weeks but had no desire or inclination to involve myself in anything demanding. I read, a lot. I ate, too much. I drank, more than I should. I slept, mixing up days and nights. I fretted. I experienced a couple bona fide panic attacks. I wasn’t unhappy exactly, but I was lost.

Then, out of the blue, with no apparent effort on my own part, I had a series of painful, vivid, cathartic anxiety dreams, processed them, dropped a lot of past baggage – some with a gesture of my middle finger, some with the sincere bon voyage throw-it-a-kiss – decided to engage in a reflective period of forgiveness and grace (even to myself), and found myself again. It was as if a switch were thrown and I finally entered the light of retirement and am enjoying the exact same things that were driving me to distraction for sixteen months. Go figure.

I am content. I can’t remember the last time I could say that and really mean it. Oh, I loved/adored/gloried in People’s UMC for four years but still felt like no matter what got accomplished and how successful it was, there was more I should be doing. A positive discontent, but discontent, nonetheless. No, now I am at home in my own skin and things feel better. I am losing weight, sleeping well, reengaging spiritually in daily practices, getting back on the treadmill, and absolutely enjoying all the time in the world to read, write, listen to music, and spend time with Barbara (and our kids and grandkids).

I am in the middle of my third three-day fast in the past three weeks. I have fasted for twenty-four hours regularly for years, though I admit that there have been long (long, long, long) stretches where I fasted from fasting. I am aware that fasting is perhaps the least favorite of our spiritual disciplines and means of grace, but this is sad to me because the benefits (for me) so outweigh any costs. Yes, I get hungry. Is this a bad thing? Approximately 10% of the world goes to bed hungry every night and we are fast approaching 1 billion people who are food insecure and undernourished. On a very simple and basic level, I fast to remember not to take food for granted and that I am so very privileged and blessed.

But I haven’t done three-day or longer fasts since my thirties and I really cannot tell you why. I realize that the experience is different for everyone and that my understanding and experience is subjective, but a three-day fast has benefits that a single day will never match. In a one day fast, I get hungry. It reminds me to feel thankful and grateful. It raises my awareness and triggers a response of prayer and reflection. Great. Nothing at all wrong with this, but it still is essentially all about me and my hunger. How is three days different? On the second day my body gets in touch with me to ask, “Is something wrong? I was just talking with the stomach and there is concern you may be missing some appointments…” I engage this conversation and take time to realize that everything is just fine, but that I am taking some time off of being dictated to by my digestive system. My sense of gratitude and blessing multiply on the second day. I feel like I am cleaning out, both physically and spiritually. I relax. Yes, I am still hungry, but not more hungry. I feel lighter, less weighed down, less tied down. I experience a mild euphoria, and that extends to the third day where my sense of hunger is like a companion, not an enemy. I feel greater clarity, focus, hopefulness, calm, and a giddiness that in one short day I can have something yummy to eat again. I spend more God time, Spirit time. I feel more connected to God and less to bodily dictatorship. I feel happier, healthier, more centered, more pleasant, and more blessed than I can express. I cannot fathom having even attempted a three-day fast in the first year-and-a-half of retirement.

Seasons. Cycles. Rhythms. This is life. We all want as many ups as possible, with a few downs as we can get away with, but life doesn’t ask permission. It just is. And it is a gift. I don’t want to go back to the gray places I just emerged from, but I am very glad to have journeyed through them. The brilliance of the light and joy I feel today is heightened and enhanced by the dismal days I stumbled through. I fully accept that more gray days await, but at this moment I say, “bring ’em on,” because I haven’t felt this good, this balanced, this complete in a long time. Thanks be to God!