Friday, August 12, 2016

Right Now, by Phillip Hoyle


Right now I’m packing my bags to make a road trip to Mid-Missouri, there to celebrate Christmas with my children, grandchildren, ex-wife, and probably a few old friends.

Right now I am closing the massage practice that I’ve sustained for fifteen years.  

Right now I’m cleaning out the massage studio, distributing furnishings and equipment, and packing up too many things to take home. My partner is happy for me but not keen on my bringing more things to the house. Due to the trip, I need to clear the room by Saturday afternoon if at all possible.

Right now I’m finishing my Christmas preparations, all of them that I can remember to do.

Right now I’m tending to new responsibilities related to the co-op art gallery I’ve joined within the past month.

Right now I’m dealing with feelings related to my retirement that will occur along with the closing of my practice.

Right now I’m reading a story I barely found time to write.

Right now I’m tired but hopeful.

All this activity alongside today’s theme—right now—reminds me of feelings I experienced in my late twenties. I had left one position in an up-and-coming congregation in order to attend graduate school. Although I was receiving a nice grant for my studies, I still needed to supplement my income with a part-time job. I secured one at another church where I served as a youth minister. In my four years at the prior church I had learned quite a lot about my work style, both its good habits and not so good habits. In my new office right above my desk I hung an all-caps note that read: DO IT NOW. This represented my attempt to overcome a habit of procrastination especially in tasks that I didn’t relish. I thought I would simply make the phone call ASAP and become much more efficient. I needed to be efficient. I was going to school, working (no church job can ever really part-time), and living with my wife, two children, and sometimes other adults or foster children. My life was full, busy, exciting, and demanding. I couldn’t waste any time worrying over some phone call, recruitment task, or arrangement. Do it now seemed wise. It helped somewhat. Right now is good advice for over-busy folk.

Last Saturday I talked with my friend Sue about my complicated “right now” feelings. I told her that I wonder how the loss of intimacy that for years has been provided almost daily through massage will affect me. I then contrasted the feelings of closing a private practice in order to retire with those of leaving ministry. In my leaving a congregation some congregational members may have felt sadden, but they still had their church, a minister, and their community. By contrast my massage practice is not a community for the folks who visit me. It’s a service, even if in some instances a kind of emotional relationship emerges. Even if a client and I continue to see one another socially, the relationship without the massage practice will be changed. Individually they must seek massage services. I am not leaving them in someone else’s care, and I am not leaving Denver. Since I have never done anything like this before, it feels different.

This made sense to Sue and gave her more insight into my feelings of pressure and upset. The problem has to do with schedule—too many things needing resolution in too short a time! RIGHT NOW. Of course I assume I will survive. I know I will enjoy my trip, and I am looking forward to the automatic deposits of money into my bank account. Right now I remind myself how good life is, even for this tired old man. I assured Sue and myself that I am celebrating my life. I always do. I do so right now with you.

© 17 Dec 2013 

About the Author 

 Phillip Hoyle lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, and socializing. In general he keeps busy with groups of writers and artists. Following thirty-two years in church work and fifteen in a therapeutic massage practice, he now focuses on creating beauty. He volunteers at The Center leading the SAGE program “Telling Your Story.”

He also blogs at artandmorebyphilhoyle.blogspot.com

No comments:

Post a Comment