Letting Go of the Myth of Progress

 

Me in the Kitchen

I was meeting recently with some friends on Zoom. Because of the latest Omicron wave of the pandemic, so much of our social life has gone back to virtual meetings for the time being, and the topic we were discussing was what our goals and dreams for the future were, once this Omicron wave subsides. I thought it was a fitting topic for the beginning of January, when so many of us set goals for the upcoming year.

I used to be one of those people. Although I didn't make New Year's resolutions per se, at the beginning of each year I typically took some time to review the past year's life events and accomplishments, and then wrote up a series of goals for the upcoming year. 

In true Type-A fashion, these were not vague wish statements such as: "I hope to exercise a little more this year." No indeed. I wrote out goals that were specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and timely, or SMART goals. Examples of this type of goal is: "I will walk for a minimum of 20 minutes a day, 6 days per week." Or, I will sustain an average of 9,000 steps per day each week."*

My goal list usually consisted of 5-7 main categories, each broken down into subcategories, with goal statements under those. For example, the categories might be: Work, Health, Creativity, Social Life, Family, and Travel. Under Health, I might have subcategories such as Fitness, Food, and Work-Life Balance, and then under each one of those, I would develop SMART goals, often with associated timelines. I have written about this goal-setting process and some of the stumbling blocks here. 

A Sunny Day at Mount Washington

 

So, anyways, when I was thinking about our discussion question in advance before meeting on Zoom, I was stumped. I had set no goals for 2022. I felt no desire to set goals for 2022. Was it because the past two years taught me that there is no point in setting goals, because as soon as we make a plan for travel or to get together with friends and family, another wave of COVID comes along with new public health restrictions that kibosh everything?

No, I am still a great believer in goals and plans. I would not have had the interesting life I've had if I'd been goalless throughout my life.

I used to visualize my life as a trek up a mountain. Each time I reached a summit, I would see another peak appear in front of me, and then I'd shift my aim to reach that next peak. My life was a life of endless striving, always going for the next big thing. My personal myth of progress.

Notice the past tense. Now that I've retired, have I given up? Am I just sitting here waiting for death? Certainly, in my younger years, that was how I dichotomized it -- move forward making progress, or sit still and fail/die. 

Abby with Stick

As I've settled into retirement, I've come to see a number of things quite differently. For example, I've stepped away from the academic life, which in the first few years of retirement included doing research, giving talks, publishing, reviewing manuscripts, and supervising students. It's time. I don't miss it. And I don't feel like less of a person because I'm no longer striving toward that next scholarly peak or adding another line to my CV. I climbed that mountain and now it's behind me.

I have been sitting with something Rob said to me. "Why are you always wanting to rush off somewhere else? We live in a beautiful part of the world in a perfectly nice house. Can't you just be content to stay here and enjoy what we have?"

His comments lay bare my myth of progress. If I always have my sights set on the next destination (summit, accomplishment, goal completion), do I even have time to notice where I am right now? That is Zen wisdom, to live in the moment, because the moment is all we really have. 

So I said to my Zoom friends, "I didn't set goals for the year. I think I'm letting go of striving and the myth of progress."

But does a leopard change its spots? Maybe the real truth of it is that work obligations used to suck up most of my waking hours. Now that I'm retired and able to spend time walking trails every day with Abby, cooking healthy meals, sleeping enough, spending time with friends and family, hanging out with Rob, writing, skiing, painting, doing yoga, and so on (and hopefully travelling again soon), I actually have the life I always wanted. I don't have to set goals to get here. I'm here.

Christmas 2021 Photos 

One brother and all three of my kids were here with their families for Christmas this year, and we had a wonderful time together. The good life.

With Daughters

Christmas Dinner

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grandson

Son and his Fiancee

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* Why 9,000 rather than 10,000 steps a day? Because I had read a research article somewhere that evaluated whether the popular press had settled on 10,000 steps because it was a nice round number or because there was research evidence that 10,000 steps was, in fact, the best daily walking target for most people. The conclusion of the article was that, for most people, any increase in daily steps yielded health benefits, and specifically for women over 60, an average of 9,000 steps per day yielded the optimum health gain for the time spent (with daily steps beyond 9,000 still beneficial, but at a diminishing rate).

Leaving 2020 Behind

Rock Formations at Jack Point

Each year as the old year rolls into a new year, I usually take some time to reflect. I am not a believer in New Year's resolutions. But I do like to look back at the year we have just had and think about the highlights and low-lights, and take note of any big changes. 

Often, I'll also spend some time thinking about the upcoming year. Although I've been known to write out specific goals organized under categories such as "Writing," "Art," Family & Social Life," "Health," and so forth, with numbered subheadings and bullet points, sometimes I simply write a general statement about my hopes for what the year might hold. 

But this year as the old year waned, I found did not want to revisit 2020 and the pandemic experience. Of course, we're still in the middle of it. 

And as I tried to think about 2021, not a single goal floated into my mind. Who knows what's going to happen next with respect to COVID-19? And for that matter, with American politics, systemic racism, and climate change? The experience of living through this pandemic for much of a year has served as a reminder that my personal control over the future is quite limited.

But although I might have thought I spent the entire year fretting about daily new cases of COVID or staring at screens, the photos in my camera tell a different story. I have written about the first half of 2020 here. This post covering July-December completes my account of 2020.

The summer started badly with the death of our beloved old dog, Kate. 

Summer Camping

Tree House

In the summer, the daily new case rate here was down to single digits, so public health relaxed some restrictions. We were able to go on some local camping trips. We especially enjoyed a short camping trip to Malcolm Island with one of my daughters. 

Our original destination was closer to home, but, once the campgrounds were allowed to open, everyone had the same idea and campsites were hard to get. Malcolm Island, near Port McNeill, is one of our favourite places and we had a lovely grassy site just across the road from the ocean. My daughter pitched her tent beside our camper.

   

Bere Point Hike

Whale-watching Blind

 

 Trip to the North

Near Lilloett

During the last half of August, we made a trip to northern British Columbia to visit family and friends. We were in our little house on wheels -- our truck and camper.

After spending several days visiting our northern grandchildren and their parents, we continued on to Terrace, a small city in northern BC where we used to live.

Although we didn't see everyone we would have wished, it was so wonderful to connect with a few family and friends.

Ferry Island

Watson Lakes Hike

We also revisited some familiar hikes and river walks. Unfortunately, almost the entire time that we were in the northern part of the province, the weather was rainy and cold.

We left Terrace and spent several days in Smithers, visiting my brothers and celebrating one brother's special day with him and his family. 

Always the intrepid hikers,  we did a mountain hike to Crater Lake, braving rain, wind, and sleet. This was in August!

Crater Lake Hike

 

Nieces

We returned to Vancouver Island via an overnight ferry from Prince Rupert. Despite the pandemic restrictions, it was still a beautiful trip. We stayed in a nice stateroom with a porthole that framed the view.

Although usually during the summer months, BC Ferries runs a large ferry through the inland passage, because of the reduced number of travellers, we went on a smaller boat this time. For safety, we spent most of the trip either outside, or in our stateroom. The food service on the small ferry was very limited. 

Around Home

In the early part of the summer, I took an all-day introductory kayak course. After that, I began to look in earnest for a secondhand sea kayak. You can read about the results of my search here. 

Parksville

I continued to do many walks and short hikes in areas nearby. For example, we did countless walks at the Parksville Community Beach, where I snapped this sunset photo one evening with Rob.

Oreo Tarts

Oliver

I tried out some new recipes, including these yummy tarts recommended by Donna at Retirement Reflections. I also have made the winter squash salad described in Donna's blog post -- yummy as well.

We have lavished attention on Oliver, our sole remaining pet. In this photo, he is wearing some jewellery made for him by my grandsons. 

Grandmothering

One of the unexpected joys of this pandemic has been spending more time with my two grandsons. Childcare options have been greatly curtailed because of the pandemic restrictions. I have been providing  part-time childcare while my daughter has worked and gone back to school. 

Fall Becomes Winter

As daily cases rose over the fall, more stringent restrictions were put in place again. Because of my child care role, I still see my grandson's family. However, we can no longer see anyone else, except outdoors with physical distancing. 

At Thanksgiving, we met at Neck Point for a family hike, as we couldn't all gather for a big dinner.

 

We continue to explore trails and shorelines near home. I sometimes meet with friends for physically -distanced hikes and walks. For example, I met up with Deb who blogs at The Widow Badass for a hike to Jack Point recently. 

Deb and Petroglyphs

Rob and I celebrated New Year's Day by hiking the trails at Moorecroft Park. It was rainy, of course.

As I look through my photos and share them with you, one thing becomes very clear. Although it has been an unusual year, and a difficult year, life went on. My life was mostly filled with joy. And that joy took the form of friends, family, and nature. 

Pumpkin Season

Autumn is my favourite season. (Although, I have to admit, I also love Winter, Spring, and Summer.) But yesterday when I woke up, the rain was pounding down and the wind was howling. There was fresh snow on the mountain tops. I thought twice about loving Fall. 

 But then I put on my rain clothes and went out for a nice long walk, which included a stop at the Little Free Library in my neighbourhood. I picked up new Kate Quinn novel, and tucked it inside my raincoat to keep it dry. I admired the Halloween decorations at various houses. And I was back to loving Fall.

Today the sun shone gloriously all day long. The leaves are multi-coloured, a perfect Fall day. Our back garden is a vision to behold on a day like this.

I went to a local pumpkin patch with my daughter, son-in-law, and two grandsons.

We each chose a pumpkin to take home.  Later, I went for a walk on the forest trails near my home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tree frogs are very noisy along the trails at this time of year. I paused to look for a frog that was croaking right beside my toe. But they are very good at camouflage. Although I stood there for several minutes looking for it, I could not spot it.

A couple of days ago, I climbed up Notch Hill, and the views were spectacular. The arbutus trees were covered with red berries, which made them look very festive.

Yes, it's settled. I love sunny Autumn days. Rainy ones are fine, too. They're great for rain walks, reading in front of the fireplace, writing, and baking pies. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the last couple of weeks, I've baked two pies -- a pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving, and an apple pie this week. Rob is happy. Isn't retirement grand?

A Retirement Gift to Myself

Livin' the Dream

Last weekend I bought a present for myself -- a retirement gift. I retired three years ago, so this gift has been a little slow in coming. In fact, I have waited far longer than I can believe for this.

I bought an ocean kayak!

I am now the happy owner of a beautiful Seaward Costa Grande. She's named "Sunny Side Up."

Sunny Side Up

First Launch

There it is, loaded into the back of Rob's pickup truck on the day we brought it home. It's a fibreglass kayak, gently used: 16.2 feet long and 52 pounds. I was looking for a kayak suitable for a smaller paddler, and lightweight enough that I will be able to manage loading and unloading it.

Seaward is a local Vancouver Island company. Today I took her out for her maiden voyage.  

Heading out into the Bay

 

Rob helped me launch at a favourite beach not far from where we live. I spent about an hour paddling along the shore and around some little islands. I cruised past a sea lion up on a rock, who watched me with a wary eye. Porpoises were swimming at a distance. It was really fun.

When I say that this purchase has been a along time in coming, I am not exaggerating. I first tried kayaking 35+ years ago in the early 1980s when I lived in Vancouver. I instantly fell in love with the sport. Two of my close friends bought themselves kayaks around that time and began going on expeditions to remote locations along the west coast of BC. 

My Friend W out for an Evening Paddle

 As much as I wanted to join them, I did not because year after year, there was always something that stopped me. I had no money. I moved to the prairies to accept my first career job. I moved back to the BC coast and had a baby, and then two more. I moved up north to the interior of the province. I became a single parent. I worked long hours at my job -- 60 or more hours a week. I became an empty-nester and almost immediately moved to the prairies again. Because of these various circumstances, it never seemed to be the right time to invest in a kayak. 

Bowron Trip: First Portage

But whenever I had a chance, over the years, I rented or borrowed a kayak and went out on the water. 

My friend W, one of the two friends that bought a kayak in the early '80s, has lent me her kayak many times over the years. I rented a kayak and went on a overnight expedition with W and some other friends in those early years. 

In 2009, Rob, my son, and I paddled the eight-day Bowron Lakes loop with friends B & V and two other people. In fact, Rob and I were in an 18-foot freighter canoe set up with oarlocks, and we rowed the Bowron.

Bowron Trip: Enjoying the Sunshine

Three of our party were in kayaks and the two others were in a canoe as well. My son used a kayak borrowed from my friend B, the red kayak in the header photo for this blog post. Sometimes my son and I switched for a while and I kayaked while he rowed the canoe with Rob. 

In the photos to the left, top to bottom, you see our group beginning the first portage. In the middle photo, we've stopped at a sandy beach for lunch and to bask in the sun. Our freighter canoe is in the foreground. In the bottom photo, my son is paddling down the Cariboo river.

Bowron Trip: Son Paddling Down the River

This was a five-mile stretch of river that connected two of the lakes. For this part of the trip, Rob and I paddled rather than rowed the canoe. It was a very special trip, and it reinforced my desire to get a kayak. But then I moved to the prairies, again.

 In 2015, Rob and I went on another fabulous trip -- an eight-day sailing trip on a 75-foot schooner in the ocean waters around Haida Gwaii (Queen Charlotte Islands). We travelled from Moresby Camp down the east side of Moresby Island through the Gwaii Haanas National Park Reserve to SGang Gwaay Llanagaay (Ninstints) and back. Ninstints is a Haida village site that is a UNESCO World Heritage site. 

Burnaby Narrows: Sea Life

I had always intended to write about this amazing experience here on my blog, but still have not done so. The schooner had two kayaks on board, so I had several chances to paddle around.

I spent a lovely afternoon paddling through Burnaby Narrows on Haida Gwaii. It is an area with incredibly rich sea life. I took these photos with my phone looking down through the clear plastic viewing window on the kayak. The photo below is of a moon snail egg casing -- it looked like a rubber tire.

Burnaby Narrows: Moon Snail

Morning Paddle

While I was paddling around in Burnaby narrows, a group of kayakers came through. I chatted with them and found out they were members of the Nanaimo Paddlers. I said to them, some day I will move to Vancouver Island and join a paddling group!

In the photo to the right, I was out for an early morning paddle. I saw a commotion onshore and paddled in to see a raccoon in its natural habitat. Haida Gwaii is a very special part of the world and I feel very lucky to have spent time there. 

Since retiring to Vancouver Island, I have made a couple of friends here who are kayakers.  I have joined a small kayaking group.

This is a story of delayed gratification -- 35 years of waiting.  And now I finally have my own kayak!