Circles
The eye is the first circle; the horizon which it forms is the second; and throughout nature this primary figure is repeated without end. It is the highest emblem in the cipher of the world. Ralph Waldo Emerson
It has been raining all through the night. In the morning walking the dog I hop over the small puddles. Looking into them I can see the gravel at the bottom but am mostly enchanted by the life and movement still a
Every drop of rain is surrounded by concentric circles, so accurate as if drawn by a master illustrator using the best calipers on the market. I remember using this magic tool while in school and how difficult it was at times to keep it steady and avoid the slight vibration.
Nature, however, not only created the magic form with ease it outdid itself by adding several smaller just as perfect inside the biggest one. As they become smaller and smaller these circles fade a bit and lose their sharpness.
This brings back another vivid memory this time from my high school social studies class. I remember a sketch we used. It reflected on the different circles we belong to. The inner circle was me and then in widening circles my family, my friends, school, and the community at large. I was fascinated not so much by the idea as with the vibrant colors and the notion that was obvious, I am in the center of the world (at least of my world). Later, an ambitious teacher changed this simplistic picture of my world by introducing an alternative, more accurate representation when he (or she) pointed out how these circles were not in fact one inside the other in that perfect expected order but overlap cutting into each other. How we can belong to more than one circle at the same time, and so perhaps act differently in each one of them. The same was right for the people I knew. They could belong to my circle but simultaneously to many others.
This realization that appears so basic was at the time earth shattering, mind blowing even. It still is.
Some days I like to take count. Go over the people in my life, spread out my spheres of connections and on this mental map perform time laps to see what was and what is and what slipped away over the years.
The process depends on my mood and can be inspiring or thought provoking, and occasionally, dizzying.
I shake my head to clear it from the memories while the dog inserts his front paw into the rain paddle and within seconds the orderly concentric world becomes a muddled pool.
“Time to move on,” he nudges me gently like he always does when I get lost inside my thoughts.
And we do.
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This essay is part of my collection - Retirement Chronicles.
RETIREMENT CHRONICLES: A Light on Altered Land Paperback – December 28, 2023 by Ariela L. Zucker (Author)
One Woman’s Journey Through the Last Year of Work and the Quiet Leap Into What’s Next
What does it feel like to approach the end of a working life? Not the grand farewell or the glossy travel plans - but the quieter, more personal process of letting go, shifting gears, and waking up to a new kind of freedom?
In Retirement Chronicles: A Light on Altered Land, Ariela L. Zucker invites readers into the year before her retirement—one marked by small reckonings, hesitant excitement, and honest reflections on identity, time, and purpose. With warmth, humor, and a touch of poetry, she explores the in-between space where one life winds down and another begins.
This book is not a how-to. It is a companion for anyone standing at the edge of change.