Chapters of Life

For a long time I've been fiddling with a concept of how the various stages of life commonly break down into 12 periods of seven years each.  

Each period corresponds to a particular month of the year, beginning March 1 (when we begin expecting new life to emerge from the dead ground), and ending on February 28 (the end of winter and the shortest, coldest month of the year).  

Those months also cluster into quarters of three months each, which also correspond to a larger phase of life.  A couple of days ago, I assigned verbs to the months and quarters which to me characterize the main activity of those periods.  

Finally today I put together a diagram which portrays those periods of life as books on a bookshelf.  I would imagine that selecting a couple of key stories about your life from each of those periods would produce a pretty good autobiography.  

Hm.  Maybe I'll do that.  After all, by next Autumn I'll be heading into the "concluding" period, and shortly after that comes a period of sharing with others what you've learned in life.  If I can commit to writing the first 9 periods now, then the last quarter should be easy to put a pen to, even for someone who is nearing the end of the journey, about to fill up the bookshelf.  :)

Leaving what you love

As my job search continues, the several options I had been exploring (and some, interviewing for) have started to fall off the radar screen.  Right now I am down to two, both fairly assured that I may get an offer soon.  Neither are in Des Moines.  It's looking more and more like I will have to move.  On one of the jobs, Diane and I are now starting to consider how I might move, but finagle keeping our home where it is, so as to retire in it in 4 years, but still see each other regularly.  On the other job, that would not be possible, so I am wondering if we could get Jimmy to consider also moving there, so he could be near us like he is here.

Earlier this week, I found myself standing at the top of the staircase to the lower level and nearly began to cry.  I had an overwhelming feeling of loss, saying to myself "I don't want to leave here."  For a guy who's moved around as much as I have, it feels strange to have such a strong attachment to a place.  I don't know what to make of it.