I have been feeling overwhelmed with my overly full plate. Is the answer a smaller plate or fewer items on my usual plate?

Clearly this metaphor isn’t working since I’m not even sure I get it. Nonetheless, I have too many places to go (doctors offices) and people to see ( health care professionals) including docs, nurses, X-ray technicians, MRI operators, appointment schedulers, physical therapists , speech therapists, and a few more. Besides letting out a primal scream that shakes the rafters, what’s a professional patient to do? Run away, that’s what.

I’m three days into a weeklong knitting retreat in Northern Tuscany, not too far from Pisa. There are 11 knitters and one instructor and we’re making fancy cowls. My fellow students are all women, as expected, ranging in age from about 50 to 80, and all quite friendly .

Trip report, Day One, Friday

Before I even boarded the plane. I sent the following to a friend: I’m never traveling alone again. It’s just too much for me! What exactly was this “too much?” The effort to hold onto my belongings is what. The good news: I didn’t lose a thing in the Lyft or the airport or on the plane. Since we all know of my tendency to arrive at any destination missing at least three ( more like ten) items I left home with, well, my effort to not let that occur was sooo stressful. It felt as if I were learning a new language. What to call this new way of making my way in the world? Focused Life? The Way of Attentiveness? Yes, there were a few close calls. The book I left at Starbucks ….but, but, but I returned for them as soon as I realized my lapse. I count that as a win! Take that , those of you whose attentions are not deficits.

I also didn’t do a great job of locating my gates. I was sure that guy said Gate B11 was up the escalator and to the left. But I found myself passing his way again. He gave a little wave and pointed me in the right direction. Well, not exactly. Repeat again. I made my flight and guess what! No heart attack. Still, not exactly an auspicious start to the trip.

We arrived at our home for the week, a renovated water mill not far from Pisa, enjoyed a scrumptious lunch and many of the 11 of us succumbed to the god of Morpheus (naptime).

But not for long. Up and at ’em for an energetic walk through a bamboo forest where I went slipping and sliding on the muddy path through the woods. A sudden tremor or wobble could land me off the path and into the stream two feet below.

Epiphany Number One: this, a hike on an unpaved path was not a wise choice for an older person with balance issues stemming from Parkinson’s. Epiphany Number Two: Before embarking on any activity, ASK QUESTIONS. Describe the surface where we’ll be walking. Is there any elevation from which a person could take a tumble?

And finally, just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what lies at the crux of my dismay. I am not the robust, active, energetic senior citizen i hoped to be when I was a younger and more optimistic version of the old woman I see in the mirror today. I’m trying to strike a balance between my reality and my expectations for myself in this new incarnation.

More to come and I promise not to be maudlin. Maybe we’ll even see a bit of food porn. Cheese at every meal!. New ways to serve pasta. And I must try to recreate the best minestrone ever we had for lunch yesterday.

More to come.