It seems like most of the advice about retirement is to keep working. Experts cite financial and health benefits, as well as the ongoing need for people to live with purpose. Apparently, only a job provides such purpose?
Of course, I disagree work is the solution for most of life’s woes, and I’ve been toying with the idea of penning an op-ed about the case for retirement. I’m still fleshing it out, but my basic premise is that we add layers and layers of accommodations and behaviors to earn a living, and we start to believe that’s who we really are.
Or perhaps we just accept who we’ve become. The workplace is a powerful force, but everything changes if you have the financial resources to exit.
Retirement can be the opportunity to discover or re-discover who you are when nobody is watching. I’ve been searching for a metaphor. The first one that came to mind is of a snake shedding its skin. Snakes shed their skins because they are growing, and the old skin no longer fits. That sort of applies to how we evolve in retirement, but I think it misses one key point.
If it’s true we add layers to survive, then shedding them over time returns us to our natural state. That’s not how it works with snakes, so I’ve been trying to think of another metaphor. Perhaps we are more like furniture being stripped of multiple layers of paint to ultimately reveal the lush original wood.
I’m several layers away from exposing bare wood, but I’ve been blowing some dust and cleaning up a lot of paint chips. I want to see what’s underneath.
Are you morphing in retirement? How would you describe it?
Extra gluten, please
I love, love, love making sourdough bread. I believe Gollum, my starter, has grown stronger with time. The bread has a tangy sourdough taste, and it rose higher this time. More kneading reduced the size of the holes, and I’m learning to score the bread with crisp lines.
Bread baking started out as a pandemic hobby, but I’m in for the long haul. Now that I kind of have the process for basic sourdough locked in, I’d like to experiment with variations. Thank goodness neither one of us has gluten issues. That would be a bummer.
Awhile back I suggested I might try making croissants. I studied the Cook’s Illustrated recipe and video, but it just seemed a bridge too far. I finally did subscribe to the NY Times cooking section, and they just posted a different recipe for croissants.
The Cook’s Illustrated recipe makes 22, which seems rather ridiculous. The NY Times makes eight. That sounds more manageable to me, so I might give it a go.
The secret to better cuticles
I’m getting a pedicure today. I’m as immune as I’ll ever be, and everyone will be masked up. I honestly don’t know why I care so much about my toes, when my hands and fingernails look absolutely horrible.
My cuticles are the worst in the world. But I have discovered the secret to better cuticles. It involves a soapy water and a sink full of dishes.
Dale made macaroni and cheese this week, and the mess was horrendous. Lots of extra stuff that wouldn’t go in the dishwasher, so I washed a lot by hand. My cuticles softened up, and the dry stuff came right off.
And no, this does not mean I’m signing up to clean Dale’s messes. However, his mac & cheese might be worth it. Not gooey like some – lots of extra sharp cheddar cheese but still firm.
By the way, I still owe you a recipe for Dale’s enchilada sauce. Coming soon to a blog near you.
I think of my work life as water fitting into a small container. Over time, the water gets stagnant and container gets moldy. Water wants to flow freely and that’s what retirement offers! I’ve been retired only 6 months and so far loving it, even in restrictive COVID times.
I absolutely LOVE your description of retirement. Thank you for much for sharing, and congratulations!
“… we add layers and layers of accommodations and behaviors to earn a living, and we start to believe that’s who we really are.” Oh, Donna. How this line spoke to me. It’s not only in earning a living but in living itself. Like a line from a John Prine song – to believe in this livin’ is just a hard way to go. I feel like I’ve been able to be more of who I am as I age in retirement. And yeah to sourdough bread, pedicures and homemade mac ‘n’ cheese.
You had me at John Prine. I agree with you about being more of who we are in retirement, and I couldn’t be happier to hear anything I may have written spoke to you!! Thank you.
I liked all my jobs. But as someone who was at at home mom and then later an at home wife I naturally fight the “the only real worth is in a paid job or full time volunteering” mindset. I’ve worked in retirement and not worked and had a couple small businesses and went to college full.time with a masters or doctorate plan and left….I don’t want to be the same person my whole retirement. I’ve never bern bored. Cabin fevered and at home crazy but not bored. There are a couple newer books in retirement out there I’ve had sent to me all about how to find worth and work in retirement. My worth is super dee dooper.
I like what you said about not being the same person your whole retirement. It’s so cool to see how it unfolds.
I’m coming up quickly on the two year mark in retirement. I like it a lot more than work. I recently began a small amount of contract work (about 30 hours) and I enjoyed getting out and meeting and talking to people, but found myself getting a little stressed about the paperwork. I’m still finding myself in retirement and still adjusting. I think it is just a process that has to play out over time.
I definitely like retirement a lot more than work!!! I also did a little contract work in the first few months of retirement and quickly abandoned that.
Oh. And I got a pedi today. The whole shebang. Leg massage, parrafin treatment, stone massage….
I just had the basic, but the guy who did it was excellent with the foot and calf massage. I actually put my phone down so I could close my eyes and savor the experience. I should have done the paraffin — next time. I don’t get my toes painted because I swim, and it’s an extra $5 to get the shiny buff. Worth it!
I realized recently that I am now living. When I was working, it was 50-60 hour work weeks, not counting the travel time and the “things to catch up reading” at home. I never learned how to have work/life balance, never even had a decent exercise program… couldn’t find the time. Now I do yoga, take walks, do Zumba, bike ride. I cook dinners exploring new recipes; I eat real food for breakfast and lunch. I explore things I want to learn more about – from courses in psychology to learning about the enneagram (most recently). I spend time reading, doing crosswords, talking with friends, blogging. Did I have a purpose working – yeah, I think so. It was not saving the world, but it was satisfying work. Do I have a purpose now? I struggle with this, but I can also say that I am living now. Looking back, I wasn’t really living then…I was working.
I’ve come to believe embracing life and doing all the things you are doing is purpose enough. There are parts of the job I enjoyed, but you are right. So many other aspects of life were neglected, and at the end of the day, it’s work. There’s a lot to be said for real food and regular exercise. I saw on LinkedIn a woman I used to work with got promoted to a big job. She told me once she mostly ate a bowl of cereal for dinner and then got online to do some more work. She wasn’t complaining.
I think, like nature, there is a season for each thing. There is a nobility to work, whether for a paycheck or saving the world, and we did what we had to: cereal for dinner or missing a son’s recitals (it still makes me cry 20 years later). But retirement is a new season – and one I intend to embrace fully.
What a beautiful way to think about retirement. Your words are quite insightful, and I can’t think of anything to add. I really like thinking about the seasonal nature of what we do and when we do it. Thank you!
When my husband retired from the military in 1996 we moved to our dream spot and proceeded to live. While there we met a 85 year old retired couple. They had retired at 50, raised a few head of cattle and slowly sold the property around their house. I asked what the secret to retirement was. He said, “My body changes all its cells every seven years. At the seven year point I change my life.” He had done acting, baking, painting, gardening, – all with full passion and community involvement.
Our “retirement” seems to be in years of seven, as well. Kids, nest eggs, grandchildren, parents.
We are moving to the next seven, in a place we love with the things we both enjoy doing. There is still family, but things are well under control. At the end of that seven hubby will be 79 and I will be 72. We may have to downsize again and figure it out. I am happy with the seven year plan.
Thanks for sharing your story. I love the idea of a seven-year plan. We were also military, and I think moving gets in your blood.