I recall as a kid watching a Saturday afternoon movie matinee on TV. The movie was entitled, “The Invisible Man.” I was fascinated by the movie and the concept of being invisible while living in the physical world.

I’ve seen the movie numerous times through the years. I’ve even read the book.

I’ve become more aware lately of the story I’ve told myself about making myself invisible in the world.

I’m aware that I made up that story when I was very, very young.

And why would I make up such a story to tell myself?

Bottom line . . . self-protection from being judged by the world.

As a kid I loved to play. I loved to take my sister’s baton, marching up and down the sidewalks along 17th Avenue. I marched in beat to the music I heard playing in my heart.

I loved to play with my sister’s dolls, making up stories about the dolls.

When I was a little kid, there were no boy dolls, just  girl dolls. It didn’t make any difference to me as a three year-old; the dolls simply made wonderful objects to make up wonderful stories about amazing lives.

I learned from my male peers in the neighborhood that this was not the boy thing to do.

So, I made up a story that while in the world I needed to hide my play from others.

And here I am all these years later with the story of invisibility percolating in my sub-conscious.

Me . . . in my plus 50 retirement years, growing a business that promotes retirement years’ visibility.

I have to laugh at myself. This made-up story by three year-old Bobby McCreight clearly no longer serves me.

Yet, there it is, lying underneath the surface, fighting against the currents of life, encouraging me to express and play the joyful music of my heart.

I have a cast of characters, puppets . . . doll-like figures they are.

There was a time while living in Chicago, I made my living as a storyteller and puppeteer.

I so wanted to make that my full-time career; yet, it never took off.

Another career door opened, and I followed that career path.

In a way, you might say it enabled me to feed my made-up story of invisibility.

I’m so grateful for a conversation I had with a client earlier today. The topic of invisibility came up. It allowed me to take a look at myself, and to identify a made-up story that was no longer serving me and the work I’m here to do in my Act 3.

I remember my grandmother, Mom, in her retirement years, truly retiring into sitting on the sidelines of life.

Mom saw her life in her Act 3 as over, and lived life vicariously through the lives of her daughter and grandchildren.

Me . . . I firmly believe that Act 3 awaits you and me with open arms, ready to embrace you and me with its loving, inspiring us to do what the quote of Henry James suggests, It’s time to start living the life you’ve imagined.

And for me . . . this means being visible in the world with my stories, art, and puppet friends.

Loving you,

Robert, aka Bob