Confessions of a Retiree
Aahh…Retirement! It’s something most people aspire to, but if you’re planning it, it’s not what you think. There’s lots of advice about starting ‘your next chapter’ and ‘making the golden years golden’. It’s not that easy. Yes, it’s helpful to have some sort of plan, but, you know, ‘the best laid plans’ and all that. I’ve been retired for nine years. I am 71 years old—yes old. None of that years young stuff! First lesson of retirement is accept your age and the limitations that come with it. Concentrate on what you can do—not what you can’t. If you spend all of your time wishing you were young again, or trying to stay young, you will be dead before you get to do any of the fun stuff! My experience with retirement has been mixed. Some good, some bad, some scary, some uncertain.
Retirement is change. It might be the biggest change of your lifetime. The only thing it’s got going for it is that you have slightly more wisdom than when other milestone changes occurred. Still, it’s all new and the adjustments needed to succeed are life and death: Adapt or die.
When I first retired, I was excited about all the things I planned to do. Some of them quite simple, like sleeping in (I worked in healthcare…630 am starts meant 5 am alarms), no more rushed mornings, sitting on the porch and reading books all day, lazy afternoons, eating whenever and whatever I wanted. Just slowing down in general. Not ruled by the clock or the calendar.
I charged headfirst into some of the things I called hobbies. Like ‘junking’. I was an avid junker—garage sales, estate sales, flea markets, auctions. I loved them all and had all the junk to prove it. I found lots of treasures, bargains, and yes, a lot of junk. But I enjoyed every bit of it. Once I retired, I could hit all the sales on the first day. I was going every week, sometimes twice a week. And then…I just wasn’t interested anymore. I had seen all the antiques, jewelry, furniture, and clothes...so many clothes!
And while I was doing all that junking I was recycling. Upcycling furniture, turning old worn-out housewares into garden art, refinishing tables, and reupholstering chairs (wooden chairs and just the seats). I spray painted and puttied and sanded and painted again. I was obsessed! And then I just wasn’t interested anymore.
I went through a baking phase. I baked cookies, pies, galettes, cupcakes, muffins, cakes, you name it, I tried it. And ate it. And then I just wasn’t interested anymore.
Throughout my life, I have always stitched. Sewing, crochet, cross stitch, embroidery, etc. So of course, in retirement I kept up with those lifelong activities. I have several items hanging in my closet that I don’t wear, don’t fit, don’t like. I still sew, but usually only practically. I doubt if I’ll ever make another garment. And again, I’m just not interested anymore.
Burn Out. That’s what it all is. Immersing myself in all these things just burned me out. Oh, there was a natural slow up, not so much wind in the sails. But mostly, I was burned out.
And then, I dug that rut. A new routine to replace the structure of working. It’s easy. First comes the boredom. All the days run together with all the weeks and months and before you know it, a year has passed and you’ve accomplished nothing. You don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. You eat too much and sleep too much. Yes, depression. You feel rather useless; we wrongly define ourselves by our jobs. You’re not needed. The kids are grown and need less and less (and that’s the way you taught them.) Getting a part time job might be an idea—but do you really want to go back to work? No. You think of it because it feels comfortable. There’s always volunteering or joining, but it’s just another comfort zone activity.
And guilt. Guilt because you believe you’re wasting your time. And the realization sets in that time is slipping away. So, you start doing some research about how to be happy in retirement. So much of it is a chronicle about a minority of people who started a new career (not exactly retirement!) or became artists or activists and then wrote a book about themselves. Not much about ordinary folks going through the retirement change.
The thing is, tumbling into those ruts, those deep, dark trenches that feel bottomless is where the change happens. It’s where you let go of the old, find a new perspective and improvise (because it’s all trial and error) the new. Yes, reinvent yourself, but you don’t need to become a superhero. Do you need to be needed; is a purpose in life really necessary to be happy? Maybe yes, maybe no. It’s a bumpy ride. And it’s not a non-stop flight. You’re always changing planes.
The rut and the trench are now backfilled and I’m slowly determining my direction. Travel has been at the forefront of my activities, and after some health issues, I am fortunate to be able to continue. The biggest thing I’ve learned is to not lean on the old comfortable ways. Retirement is a time to continue learning and doing new things.
Retirement has its ups and downs; it’s more good than bad. No responsibilities. No bosses. No office gossip. No angry people expecting you to fix their problem, no morning/evening commute. It’s just all about you and that feels uncomfortable and selfish. So, plan ‘til your heart’s content, but expect the road to be twisty and turning. Expect obstacles and setbacks. Do your best to stay healthy which is easier said than done. Forget the words ‘should’ and ‘have to’ and replace them with ‘yes’, ‘no’, and ‘maybe’. Pace yourself and accept the change as it comes. Aahh, retirement…and the living is easy?
Until next time, I’m MP Kennedy