Wanting nothing on my calendar

I’m slipping into a new phase of solitude. Maybe it  is more like a renewal; probably both, new and renew. Here are some of the indicators. 
    I notice that I don’t want very many plans on my calendar. In fact, I don’t want even to keep a calendar, much less have the need to do so. Well, I do need to write down the few medical appointments I have—the standard eye, teeth kind— because I can’t keep my calendar in my head any more. 
      This anathema to many calendar plans was reinforced yesterday during a luncheon visit to a friend at her independent living  facility. The place was lovely—spacious public rooms and dining room; an apartment with a view of rolling hills; a beautiful chapel; and a potter’s studio, furnished with all the sophisticated equipment an expert could want, and open to all residents. 
   As I left, however, feeling exhausted. Not from the visit, but from the thought of all the social energy I would have to expend to live there. The good news is that is that I can stay right here. I am very grateful to be sitting at home with just a few chosen events on my calendar, and a stack of book waiting for me.

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