inding out new ways to be in the five years since I retired.

Back when I worked, my special delight every day was to ride my commuting bicycle across the entire floor to the coffee pots and start a brew, then ride back. God knows what would have happened if the building manager caught me. And yes, I rang the bike bell at every cubicle intersection.

So now I’m retired. One of my favorite things is to ride over to Leu Gardens (the city’s botanical gardens, about a block from my house) and walk it. Then I’ll ride over to my local cafe (Frameworks) and get a cup of joe and a bakery poptart. I’ll have a book with me.

They just opened a small coffee shop at the gardens. Since I show up early (annual membership gets you an hour earlier than general admission, meaning you can beat the field trips in). Decided that I really wanted a cup (before my after-walk cup) and went into the shop and picked up a small (micro-grande?) size. There was a guy and girl working the counter and the guy asked, “Park employee?”. So I said, “Nope. Retiiired.” We all laughed and I went out into the hall to put my wallet into my backpack and hitch it up for my walk. But I heard the baristas chatting inside.

“Did you hear the way he said it? ‘Retiiired’.”

They laughed about it, but it wasn’t cruel laughter, just observational (and the usual way to mock what people say is to cartoon up their voice into a whiny parody, and there was none of that). Hitched up my pack, picked up my brew, cocked a smile and walked into the gardens.

Beautiful morning out there.I have some favorite parts in the park and they were all glorious. It’s about two miles around and I just walked, sipped, and reflected. Yes, it’s been five years since I retired. I ended the career on a high note. I saved my corporation’s ass through heroic auditing efforts (four months, working every waking hour (and weekends)). Got praised by the org’s VP, gained stock options, had a huge retirement party, everything.

Smiled and thought about my career and life. Since retirement I’ve had two near-death experiences (one uttered by a doctor, one a whirling bicycle crash). Even those factored in.

Walked. Sipped. Reflected.

The Japanese have this thing they do. Before the meal, they cup their hands in a “prayer” position and say “Thank you for this meal”. I don’t know if this is to God, or spirits, or what. It’s just gratitude.

And so I have to say, “Thank you for this life.”

>>>AND THANK YOU IF YOU BUY A BOOK, DOWN THIS LINK<<<