Friday, August 28, 2015

Looking Back

Autumn is here, my favourite season yet I feel sick to the stomach, stressed and have this nameless dread hanging over me. My body, and in particular my bowels, are fractious. After thirty plus years in education, the last twelve as a principal, retirement is looming, just six weeks away. Retirement is the end of my vocation, the end of meaning, the end of my life as I know it. A great void beckons. No dreams. No hope. Just a hedonistic life - me, me, me. Solitary existence, solitary pursuits. Then the voice of reason takes over. I talk to myself sternly. Stop moaning, Chrissie and do something about it. I enrol in a new Writing course at Box Hill TAFE. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to write a book. This morning I start a journal, an Autumn Journal, for the autumn of my life. I must try to give voice to my fears and where better than my journal. Chrissie Anthony

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