Mixed Metaphors

“The path ahead: Take it one day at a time, to live in the moment, to be a human being, not a human doing, and when I’m able, a human becoming.” — Retirement Aspiration

July 4, 2026

Today, as I begin to draft this status on my retirement journey, midway in year one, it’s the 4^th of July holiday. I posted the following on my Facebook feed this morning:

Like most things in the past 10 years, this year’s holiday can only be described as “It’s complicated!” to employ an overused phrase. It describes Trump’s first term as POTUS, the COVID-19 pandemic, the January 6th insurrection, the missed opportunity in the 2024 presidential election, and the “It’s all about me!” narcissism of Trump’s second term, remaking the White House, Washington D.C., and our monuments to reflect his ‘gilded age’ Mar-a-Lago tacky taste, plus the exaggerated emphasis on his 80th birthday, and partisan impact on the holiday.

My hope is that the rest of us can find a way to celebrate the holiday in a personal and meaningful manner that honors our democracy and the traditions of the past, and inspires us to feel pride and gratitude today!

Celebrate with family, friends, and loved ones. Enjoy summer foods and cold beverages, ice cream, parades, and fireworks (please protect your dogs and children).

After my 15-year committed relationship ended 19 years ago, one of the first challenges was learning how to celebrate the holidays as a single person. One of my regrets when I looked back, I failed to sufficiently maintain friendships during those 15 years. I defaulted to my partner’s more introverted, less social preferences. Holidays were lonely as a single person without plans with friends or family. I must admit however, some of the loneliest holidays were when I was partnered.

I’m grateful for my recovery circle of lesbian friends and their families, my chosen family, who I did nurture those relationships. We called ourselves, ‘the orphans,’ since some of us were estranged from family, or family members lived faraway, or had died.  We created our own traditions and celebrated holidays together. That circle too has now dissolved. As we aged, lost members who passed away, while others have moved away or moved on.

In the past, I’d gather with my bio family on most holidays, however the 4^th of July was not one of them after we became adults and left home. Some of my favorite childhood memories were the holidays celebrated in my hometown of Racine, Wisconsin with ‘The Grams,’ my paternal grandmother and great grandmother in their small 750 or 800 square foot, third-story, brownstone walk-up apartment in downtown Racine. The aunts, uncles, and cousins would crowd in the apartment.

First, we’d watch the parade, enjoy a hot dog, chips, potato salad, baked beans, and Jell-O lunch, with brownies and ice cream for dessert, or Grandma Lenzke’s Peanut Bars; adults would drink beer, and kids were treated to ‘pop’ instead of milk! Afterward, the cousins escorted by the eldest, would walk downtown to the Rialto or Venetian Theater and see a Disney matinee. Life was simple, life was good!

As the day winds down, I realize I’ve been a little untethered ― not having plans with friends or family ― not knowing how to celebrate this year ― or not! I’ve been single for 19 years and for the most part enjoy my solitary life, however I’ve been nostalgic today, looking back at holidays past.

An excerpt from A Solitary Life: Living Independently:

Nostalgia is defined as, “a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.”

Holidays are mile markers on that journey. Memories for me are attached to those days and it’s easy to conjure them up when looking back on the past. As a reminiscence writer and blogger, I do that naturally. As a journal-keeper, I archive those moments, emotions, and reflections on my experience.

What does July 4^th have to do with retirement?

For me this year, midway in the first year of retirement, it was a metaphor that when things change, I’m tasked with recalibrating, to take a refreshed inventory of my life, look back at the past and ask myself what I want to keep, what do I want to let go, and finally, looking ahead, what do I want to do differently? Oh, My!

July 9, 2026

My writing style usually follows the same template: A topic piques my curiosity, or a memory, or current event prompts me to write. I begin outlining in my head, make a couple of bullet points on Post-it notes, create a desktop folder, begin collecting graphics or images, research related articles or news on the subject.

Most often after that initial step, I’ll sit down at my laptop in my home writing alcove and begin keyboarding, often in one to three sessions within 24 hours. It flows. Sometimes though I write in fits and starts until I can find a rhythm, then I finally find the flow. On a rare occasion, my writing resembles journal entries. This essay follows that style. It’s more reflection and contemplation hoping that my words and experience may coalesce and resonate with the reader.

Leading up to the July 4^th Holiday was the Strawberry Full Moon. First, for those who know me, besides being a Capricorn, I can be practical, and often skeptical, especially about religion, astrology, and similar topics. At the same time, I possess the curiosity of a child and I’m willing to sometimes suspend my disbelief and be open to what I don’t fully understand.

It might be my Moon in Scorpio, described as follows, “In astrology, a Moon in Scorpio placement means your emotional core is intense, intuitive, and deeply transformative.”

The past few days it’s been true for me. I’ve been emotional, reviewing my life, and felt like I’ve crossed some threshold of change. I’ve been grieving the losses of people I love, my identity as a working person when I retired, and questioning what my path is forward. Last night I had vivid dreams returning to a workplace from decades ago with empty deserted buildings. My former husband visited too. Frank died in March.

This is what I learned. The following is an AI Overview:

For a Capricorn during the Strawberry Full Moon in Capricorn, this lunation serves as a major mid-year cosmic checkpoint. It illuminates your first house of self, identity, and personal goals. As an earth sign, this brings a spotlight onto your ambitions, pushing you to recalibrate your long-term plans. The Strawberry Full Moon in Capricorn is an intensely personal and defining transit. Its specific themes for your sign include:

Public Image & Legacy: You are naturally hardworking, but this moon pushes you to reflect on your career and how the world sees you. It asks whether your current trajectory aligns with the personal legacy you want to build.

Releasing Control: Because this moon aligns with the start of Mercury retrograde in your partnership sector, it prompts you to let go of trying to control every outcome. Instead, it urges a pivot toward patience, especially when dealing with the projections of others.

Mid-Year Recalibration: This lunation offers a prime opportunity for honest self-assessment. It’s a time to close out outdated goals, adjust your standards, and recommit only to what supports the person you are actively becoming.

The day after July 4^th I emerged from my funk and loneliness with renewed awareness and energy that I have agency and I can create a life in retirement that may not resemble the past. I can explore new experiences while I continue to nurture existing relationships with family, both bio and chosen, plus my circle of current friends. Those relationships can change too, not remain static, there’s opportunity for growth. I realized, though I’ve retired from a working life; I’ve not withdrawn from an active life.

To rachet-up the intensity of emotions and change it’s the year’s second Mercury in Retrograde. For those who embrace those beliefs, this is how AI describes this period of time:

The second Mercury retrograde of 2026 takes place from June 29 to July 23, 2026. During this cycle, the planet of communication, logic, and travel appears to move backward from Earth’s perspective, transiting through the emotional water sign of Cancer.

Key Dates & Timeline

• Pre-Retrograde Shadow Phase: Began around June 13, 2026. This phase introduced the themes, projects, or conversations that are currently being revisited.
• The Retrograde Period: Began on June 29 and will last for 23 days until July 23, 2026.
• Post-Retrograde Shadow Phase: Lasts from July 23 until early August 2026, acting as an adjustment period to tie up loose ends and clear up lingering misunderstandings.

Astrology & Meaning in Cancer

Because Mercury is stationed in Cancer, the typical logistical chaos of a retrograde takes on a highly emotional and nostalgic tone.

• Emotional Echoes: This transit frequently brings back old memories, past relationship dynamics, or texts from exes. Instead of just re-examining logic, you are likely re-feeling old emotions.
• Home & Family Focus: Cancer rules the home, family, and inner security. Expect miscommunications or structural hiccups to occur heavily within household environments or with family members.

Common Effects & Survival Strategies

Astrologers note that Mercury retrogrades typically impact four core areas of daily life:

• Communication: Heightened risk for misunderstood emails, texts, and mixed signals.
  • Strategy: Practice the “pause before you reply” rule. Double-check details before sending sensitive information.
• Technology: Prone to software glitches, data loss, and device malfunctions.
  • Strategy: Back up your important digital files and update your systems.
• Travel: Delays, forgotten documents, and scheduling disruptions.
  • Strategy: Leave early, build flexibility into your calendar, and triple-check flight or reservation times.
• Contracts & Commitments: Misalignments in professional and financial agreements.
  • Strategy: Postpone signing major new contracts or making life-altering decisions until after July 23 if possible. If you must sign, read the fine print closely.

July 11, 2026

The journaling theme continues as I chronicle the days leading up to the present and my process to first identify then fulfill my retirement aspiration, “Take it one day at a time, to live in the moment, to be a human being, not a human doing, and when I’m able, a human becoming.” 

After my emotional holiday weekend when I sat with my lonely feelings and avoided numbing out with food and other distractions, I was ready for my therapy appointment on Monday, July 6^th. I returned to therapy in February when my therapist opened her new practice. It was perfect timing since I retired at the end of 2025 and this had been a decision she had been working with me to make. I also had been spending the past six months with my former husband, Frank, under hospice care.

I sought her help to determine how to move forward in retirement, to work on my human doing codependency in relationships, how I sought affirmation and self-esteem for how I helped others, often when they didn’t ask or need my help. This was especially true in family relationships and my role as the eldest child, assisting my parents, and caring for my siblings especially when they were young.

My parents have both died, and my siblings have been adults, for years! This habit of being a human doing, affected my friendships too, often offering unsolicited advice. Through most of my life, I convinced myself I was helping others, yet in reality, I was taking care of others in a codependent effort to care for myself. I believed if I cared for the people I loved, protected them and created a safe and healthy environment, I would be safe.       

In my working life, I believed my value was only measured by my success in what I contributed to the organization for which I worked. I didn’t recognize that my value was instead, who I was, and what skills, experience, and emotional intelligence I brought to the job. I was continuously looking outside myself for affirmation. Now that I’ve retired, I’m looking to myself for esteem, measuring it not so much for what I do, instead, for who I am, and what I’m becoming.

During the first six months of my retirement, grief became front and center. My former husband, Frank, died in March, the first day of Spring. Friends from 40+ years ago died. One friend, Vig, a member of The Orphans, and a 15-year peer support recovery group. Vig was also a writer friend and I captured her oral history interview for the Madison UW Library LGBTQ+ Archives Oral History Project.

Another friend also died, Janice, who I met during our social justice work with the National Organization for Women (NOW), our collaborative fight for the passage of the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA), and as members of the Lesbian Parents Network. Like Vig, I interviewed both Janice and her spouse, Crystal, for the Madison UW Library LGBTQ+ Archives Oral History Project.

I’m grateful that I’ve had a role in each of the Celebrations of Life and I have two Celebrations of life ahead, one in August, a second in October. I strongly believe that grief and gratitude go hand-in-hand. It’s a subject I write about for my blog. I believe too that as long as we relive the memories of our shared lived experiences of our family, friends, and loved ones, they live on in our hearts and memory. This is their legacy; this is our gift.

When one grieves, one is forced to decide what to hold onto and what to let go. A metaphor that resonates with me is a snake shedding its skin, or the metamorphosis of a caterpillar becoming a butterfly.

Lastly, as I wrote earlier, I’ve been single and living alone for 19 years, one third of my adult life. When I realized that fact, it actually both surprised and shocked me. Like life itself, and in my experience as a person in recovery, life unfolds a day at a time, in cycles of sunrises and sunsets, moonrises and moonsets, the changing of the seasons.

What’s Ahead the Rest of Year One in Retirement?

“You cannot give your life more time, so give your time more life.”  — Unattributed 

In my essay, The Last Chapter: Retirement Reset, I wrote the following at the end of 2025:

“You may ask, what do I plan on doing?  I’m a list maker, and I have to-do lists and to-do if I want to lists, that are waiting for my time and attention. I have writing projects, both pending and new projects to complete, films to watch, plus brunches and coffees with friends and family.” 

As I survey my home, my closets are full, my junk drawer overflows with yes, you guessed it, junk! My kitchen cabinets can’t hold another glass or cookware. As I’ve joked in the past, the dust bunnies are rapidly reproducing. The oven and microwave need cleaning. I have personal files to sort through and documents to shred. The last box of ephemera and photos from my childhood home need to find a home. I now have work totes lining the wall of my bedroom, artwork from work to find places to live, new shelves to assemble, and purge what I don’t need, or want. 

I’ve been hard on myself. I’ve always judged myself harshly by focusing on what I haven’t accomplished, rather than my progress. I’ve watched dust collect in corners and surfaces more difficult to reach, deep cleaning I put on hold when I recovered from a hip-replacement, accidental fall, and the stop-me-in-the-tracks of grieving the deaths of family and loved ones. I’m grateful I don’t suffer from chronic depression, yet I’ve experienced situational depression and anticipatory anxiety about the future.

The good news: I’ve been writing, on social media so I don’t isolate in my home, and content for my blog. I’ve scheduled and accepted coffee dates with friends and family, movies too, solo and with friends and family. I’ve practiced spontaneity, and yes, as I’ve written before, I need practice. In the last two weeks, I’ve accepted dinner dates with friends when I had planned to remain home alone. I ordered two tickets for a comedy performance and I didn’t have a date and would need to invite a guest. I’ve made a commitment to get outside and play more.

Since this is the last chapter of my life, and before I run out of time, I’ve paid more attention to my unhealthy relationship with food, a coping tool I’ve used to comfort myself since I was a child who experienced trauma, shame, and stigma. Instead of overeating or emotional eating, I’ve cooked more in retirement, realizing that I can enjoy food by making healthy choices, by the preparation of foods I enjoy, including comfort foods from my childhood. Since I’m taking a GLP-1 medication for diabetes, it’s helping me with the food noise and portion control.

Progress Not Perfection: The housecleaning, rightsizing, letting go of my material life I no longer need to hold onto, is a work in progress. I’ve taken small steps. Instead of judging my progress by the lens of others, I’m measuring my progress by the capacity I have as a person of a certain age. Friends and family have reminded me to be gentle with myself during this first year of my retirement journey.

As I practice new behavior in relationships, I’m also remaining open to a future committed partnership. I’m not seeking a relationship in the way I have in the past out of perceived need, I’m open to the want, the adventure and desire. As I explore this next six months of my first year of retirement, I’m looking at it as a new journey, the road never traveled before, as I shed habits from the past, and open myself to possibility, wonder, and joy! Grateful.  

“The path ahead: Take it one day at a time, to live in the moment, to be a human being, not a human doing, and when I’m able, a human becoming.” — Retirement Aspiration

Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!

Retirement Series from Oldest to Most Recent

From Human Doing to Human Being

The Last Chapter: Retirement Reset

Retirement Journey: A Writer’s Life

Old People Problems

Related Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! Essays on the Topic

A Solitary Life: Living Independently

Till Death Do Us Part: Part III – (The End, or, is it?)

To-Do List Confessions: Or, How I’m a Little Bit OCD