'The time comes near for me to embrace my fears...
To wander out into the world, shackles loosed'.
You might remember that I have been rattling on, ooh for almost a year now, about the Posh Boys and their plans to do me out of my livelihood by closing the network of national offices that I have served for ten years this year... I am looking back on a career overall that spans twenty-five years this September. My job will end before that milestone, however, in March.
Such thoughts of loss to come, filled my mind initially with real fear. What would become of us? What should I do? Would I lose my home? Who would have me? What should I do?
The months rambled on, as the Government's plans to do us out of our rightful redundancy packages sauntered gaily through Parliament. From one day to the next, we veered from paranoia to elation, gallows' laughter to outrage. We fought, we wept, we wrote letters to Lords and Masters, we tried to continue to give of our best - This was all that we had ever done...
Finally, last week, we were informed of our future and the plans to enable us to flee the nest, now soiled and sullied, fragile and no longer home...
Some of my colleagues have found other jobs in other departments, continuing to make ends meet as it were - Travelling far and wide, they are, but they are also choosing to go on in much the same world as before. For a time, I think, before the axe swings their way again too.
Others have chosen to retire earlier than the alotted age. Electing to take their pensions earlier than they might have done, they are throwing their fates into the winds waiting to see where the fragile bones will fall that foretell of the future. For them, this is time to spend with grand-children, somewhat earlier than expected - Brave hours to devote to themselves and their chosen pastimes - More reading, writing, travel - Even choosing a dog...
Many, like me, are opening other doors, leading perhaps to parallel universes.
We are exploring our dreams - We are the musician, the artist, the maker of cakes; The talented designer, the fitness trainer, the handful of minds with a novel or two wrapt within their mists; The marketing guru, the PR specialist, the consultant on climate change; The painter, the craftswoman, the florist, the new doctor's receptionist... I hope to be the therapist.
We few among many. We are creating our own futures. Or rather trying to.
I think we may be the brave ones. On the other hand, we may not.
Who can say what the future will bring?
Sometimes, all we have is hope.
I hope you have a beautiful day.
What's in your future, mes bloggy soothsayers?