During my career, I got totally wrapped up in the idea I was my job, that my value on the planet was based on what I did for a living. Even today, I see former colleagues pursue their ambitions as though it’s all that matters.
Retirement strips you of old expectations, and you begin to see who you are without the pressures, demands and distractions of the workplace. Some are uncomfortable giving up their professional identities. But when the gloss of the job is gone, maybe you become the person you really are, the person you were supposed to be all along.
Work is good, and hard work is honorable. Why not be proud of our professional achievements? I am. But that’s not all there is. To me, it’s never clearer than when I pause to read the obituaries. That’s often when you see how a person’s life is characterized. Sure, there are famous people and unique individuals who found a passion that drove their careers, and you might read their obits in The New York Times.
But for the rest of us ordinary folk, what you did for a living is sometimes secondary. The real meat of a creative life tribute are the passions that shaped a rich and wonderful life.
The deceased person’s children often write the really good ones, and that’s when you see why they were interesting and more importantly, why they were loved and cherished. I’ve edited this a bit so as not to intrude on a family’s grief, but here’s an excerpt from a recent obit in my local paper:
As a school teacher, we were all lucky to have him home for summer break. We spent hours on the river in a kayak he built by hand, as he pointed out birds and plants along the way. He was a father to so many of our friends, and our home was the hub of the neighborhood. He was a frugal chef, and his mystery meat Stroganoff was legendary. He was a little league coach, umpire and soccer referee. He taught himself to play the mandolin and had a black belt in Judo. He was never afraid to try anything.
What a revelation! I’ve enjoyed – and continue to enjoy – an interesting life. I try to be a good person … fun, honest, compassionate and civilized. But I never measured myself by that standard, because I thought only work counted.
Now I know work is just a small part of who we are, and simply living life with good intent is accomplishment enough.
Donna, You nailed it how for most of my career, my value has been what I did for my employer. With my struggles of when to step aside and enjoy the fruits of my labors, I find your blog and other retirement transition blogs highly informative and helpful. I am a go to resource at my place of work and while I enjoy providing exceptional service, the decades of always being on has gotten old in a hurry. It is a process going from work goal accomplishment seeking to living life in the moment enjoying non-vocational moments. My New England work ethic seems to play a larger role in my life than it should. Financially I have enough due to not having lived beyond my means and having been work goal accomplishment seeking. I find that having “arrived” I have less to strive for professionally but so much to strive for personally. That Tai Chi class I see in the Senior Center newsletter I think has my name on it, now when do I pull the plug on work? I have so many new things to try in life.
Hi David — nice to hear from you again. It’s hard to know when to pull the plug. I was 62 — that’s how long it took for me to be financially and emotionally ready. Knowing what I know now, I sometimes wish I quit sooner so I’d have more time to enjoy this bliss, but I wouldn’t have been ready, so what’s the point in going there? As Gandalf said, “All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given us.”
A posting on Facebook recently said, remember your job will be posted online, before your obituary.
I received a congratulatory card at the time of my retirement 6 yrs ago – “Retirement is when you stop living at work and begin working at living.” I concur with what you said – maybe you become the person you really are, the person you were supposed to be all along. I’ve said retirement has allowed me to be more of who I am. I do believe that we need to cultivate a life outside of work so that we have something to retire to not just from. I still remember the feeling that David commented about – the decades of always being on has gotten old in a hurry. I knew it was time to move on with that prevailing feeling. I attended 2 memorial services this month for friends. Their lives were certainly more than their careers although i would venture that their personal attributes contributed to their career accomplishments.
Yes, work got worse with the advent of the “electronic leash.” It sounds like you love retirement as much as I do.
Hi Donna! I so agree that people who have been most closely identified with their “work” or their productivity seem to struggle the most with retirement. In the past that has been primarily men–and likely the reason that they longevity is often cut short a few years after they retire. But as more and more women enter and excel in the workforce it will likely happen to women as well. But as you point out so well, if we lived our lives like we hope our obituary would state when we are gone, we would likely live differently. I wrote both of my parents obits AND my older sister’s when she passed last year at only 65. And everyone of them was the memories I held of them and what I believed they loved the most. I hope to remember that far idea for as long as I walk the Earth. ~Kathy
Hi Kathy — thank you so much for sharing your perspective. I do think there are a lot of women who struggle with the identity thing. They need to hang with us!