“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
~ Mary Oliver
It is October 2024, this Saturday I am writing from my in-law’s retirement community as we help them organize for one more major move in their lives. In their late 80s, they are spirited and more active than many within decades of their age. Last night I arrived here in Durham to stay with my husband and visit with them and bear witness as they sort through their memories in their possessions. We sort to move what goes back to Fort Worth, what goes with us to either DC or California, and that which will be recycled and donated.
Early morning last Wednesday, our dear friend and airport driver adeptly drove us on the winding roads of our neighborhood as we left our home together bound for our local airport. My husband traveled to DC for work while I journeyed to a small town south of St. Louis to see my aunt. She’s been like another mother to me from teens until now. I had promised her a visit all year long, ever since my precious little tyke was born. My precious ‘Tyke’ is not mine. He’s the son of my oldest son, the next generation.
Aunt Shirley asked me to bring the tyke to her. While a physical visit wasn’t in my option space, there are modern day alternatives. Once he was mobile, when I watched little tyke, I would FaceTime with Shirley. We’d play on the floor and coo, wave, and share toys and books depending on what stage he was entering.
Wednesday, as we drove through the gray, early morning fog, she asked if we were off to DC. We shared our plans to diverge and reconnect here where I sit in Durham. Outside my window the trees at The Forest at Duke, the green leaves are giving way to gold and orange of autumn.
This year, seasons have new meaning in my life. I see the spring of the little tyke. This week, it is abundantly clear that I am witnessing beloved family members journey into their winter.
I am embracing this autumn differently. This autumn I am reemerging with some energy of spring yet I’m cloaked with experiences that take me into my own autumn. Almost daily I witness four generations of family life near and far.
This third season is a new opportunity and challenge to emerge solidly with my experiences and drive to be bold and provocative.
What’s next? Tomorrow I leave for Atlanta to what the organizers called, “the playground for the curious.” There I will wear my latest professional identity, Annette, Sabbaticalist and Succession Architect. I will host a TED Next Braindate™️ session, “Navigating the Unknown: How to Thrive in a Rapidly Evolving World.”
To answer Mary Oliver’s persistent question, I plan to live with wildly impactful intention to live well with the little tyke and impact fully with the professional world. To bring solutions into the light of day for professionals and businesses to live fully and resiliently with mutual benefit.
My Reflection: ”In this moment, as I move through life’s autumn, I find myself not only looking back at the wisdom I’ve received but forward to the wisdom I hope to pass down to my grandson. In this fast-evolving world, it’s easy to lose sight of the timeless lessons of patience, resilience, and love—the things that don’t change with time.”
-Anette
Annette Mason, an MEA alum most recently from Santa Fe’s Entrepreneurship at Any Age. She gained traction and momentum in making the most of time and what matters most to live with impact. “It is one thing to have the vision and another to make it happen — to find the path and community of support to be bold and vibrant at any age. MEA gives me that. Thank you, Chip!”