The Quiet Turning

I never thought I would get old. Well, you don’t do you? You simply get up each morning and start the day and before you know it the years have slipped by almost unnoticed. One ordinary day follows another until, somewhere along the way, you realise there are more memories behind you than there are plans ahead.

Even when I turned sixty two years ago it had not really twigged. I was too preoccupied living the life I had. But gradually the thought began to settle in my mind. What am I going to do with the rest of my life?

Years ago I read about an aristocratic woman who said that the first third of life is spent growing up, the second third being a mother and wife, and she had decided to give the final third of her life to God. She took this rather seriously, joining a religious order and living a life of silence and prayer. I admire the commitment, although I suspect the silence might be where I would struggle.

I know I may already have turned some people away with the mention of God. I would ask you to bear with me.

Sai Baba, an Indian guru, once said that we have been asleep for thousands of lifetimes and that it is time to awake, awake, awake. The Buddhists speak of mindfulness and living fully in the present moment.

In Judaism there is the quiet wisdom that life is not measured only by what we accumulate, but by how we repair the world around us. In Islam there is the understanding that every stage of life brings us closer to recognising our purpose and our place within creation. And many Indigenous traditions speak of living in right relationship with the earth, with one another, and with the generations yet to come.

Different words perhaps, but a similar thread runs through them all. Life is not only about what we build or achieve, but about gradually waking up to who we truly are.

When I look back now it probably should not surprise me that I have ended up asking these kinds of questions about life. According to numerology my life path is an eleven, often described as the seeker or the intuitive, someone who spends much of their life trying to understand the deeper meaning behind things. Astrologically I am a Sagittarius, a sign known for searching for truth and looking beyond the obvious. I have never really attached myself to any formal religion, yet I have always felt that life itself is a spiritual journey of sorts, one where we learn, question, wander a little, and hopefully wake up to something more meaningful along the way.

Even as a young child these thoughts would surface. I remember asking my reluctant mother who I would have been if I had not been born me. Would I still be me if I had a different parent, or different parents entirely? What is it that makes us who we are?

Perhaps the purpose of life is not to solve the mystery of existence at all, but simply to live it with awareness while we can. To ask the questions, to remain curious, and to stay open to whatever understanding may quietly unfold along the way. That ache I carried as a child may never fully leave me, but perhaps it was never really an ache at all, perhaps it was simply the beginning of waking up.

Which brings me, in a rather roundabout way, to what I hope this next part of my life might look like. I will not be joining a religious order or taking a vow of silence like the aristocratic woman I mentioned earlier. Instead I have begun quietly looking for my own version of a nunnery. Not stone walls and cloisters, but a small plot of land somewhere in Wales, quiet and a little wild, where life might slow down enough to hear myself think.

I live with my dog Ludo, who, while a loyal companion, does not share my enthusiasm for introspection or philosophical dialogue. His main contribution to deeper reflection tends to be howling in the car, which I am fairly sure is not existential commentary, although one can never be entirely certain.

I have until June, when the house sale completes, to find this small corner of Wales that will become my version of a retreat. I don’t believe I want much, here comes the list: plot of land, 2-5 acres, big skies and most importantly no societal noises.

So this blog will be a place where I share that journey along the M4 from Stroud. The search for that quiet piece of land, the thoughts that arise along the way, and whatever understanding may come from slowing down long enough to pay attention. After all, if there is such a thing as waking up in this life, it seems a good idea to try and do it before the lights go out.