Grandma, what big ears you have!

 

Grandma, what big ears you have!

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I remember way back in the last century agonizing about my life’s purpose, as if one had only one purpose and if you missed it, you were skewered on Life’s Barbeque. Or something dire.

We used to believe such silly things. One purpose. One way. And, I love this one, “one soulmate” and he was sexual, instead of possibly a whole raft of soulmate friends, male and female, trees and pets and rocks; who could know the endless possibilities?

At the time I had a little home workshop where I repaired and recovered furniture so I could be in the kitchen when the kids got home from school. Did I not recognize that was my purpose for that time?

 Eventually, I quit agonizing, relaxed, and realized that I was having a good time making ugly things beautiful, was meeting interesting people and, dangled in front of my face, multiple opportunities for all manner of classes and workshops, trips and experiences.

As Dr. Seuss said, “Oh, the places you’ll go.”

And I did. I went. Except when I didn’t. I couldn’t say “YES” to every opportunity. Oh, boy, when I went, I went. Regrets, I have a few. Both the “yes” and “no” variety of regrets. That’s okay. I rounded up a good balance.

As opportunities tend to do, one leads to another and each road branches. There’s always more. More people to meet.  More to learn. More to love. More to receive. More to give. Those various roads, so full of enticements and temptations, have led me to where I am today, living in Mexico, living the last years of my life, more moderately happy than I ever expected to be . . . and . . .

Dumb as a post. That’s me. The longer I live, the lesser I know. So what’s my life’s purpose these days? Much as I can tell, it is mostly to keep my mouth shut and remember that I don’t know.

People tend to talk to me. I listen. That’s all. I listen. Nod. Keep my lips zipped. Don’t solve other’s problems. Don’t tell them how I did it back in ’82. Don’t make suggestions. What about sharing something similar from my past? Not always. Mostly, I just listen.

Sometimes I forget and open my mouth and generally regret that action soon enough to clamp it shut quickly. Revert to listening. My purpose. Be.

Oh, I’m not hearing huge secrets. Mostly, my friends talk about niggly-naggly little everyday irritations. At times, one just needs to unload frustrations. There are moments when more important revelations need to be hauled out into the light. None of them, small or large, require me to pass on the information to anyone else. Period. End of.

What about when I need an ear, someone to hear me? Well, haven’t you noticed? I have you.

Sondra Ashton

HWC: Looking out my back door

March 13, 2025

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