I have painted several scenarios in my head on how I will spend my retirement days.
The only difference is I would want to live that life sooner. I do not want to wait for my cane or my walker. I would want to be able to hike freely without carrying a portable oxygen.
On these nights of pagmumuni-muni I remember the poem of John Masefield, one of my favorites -
I Must Go Down to the Sea
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
- John Masefield
