Another Year in Retirement
Post 67 | A Personal Story
Weary of writing on heavy policy topics, I instead tapped out a light piece this week. If you’re looking for hard political fare today, this is not that. Peruse my Notes for political commentary from the past week.
Nearly four years ago at age fifty-three I found myself no longer needing to work, paired with an absence of enjoyment from it. I was good at what I did while serving my clients well, and generously benefited in return over a period of 31 years. But everything felt on repeat and lockdown sucked out the remaining joy, making it a struggle to even start my computer each morning for a day of video meetings. So I ended with no fanfare, gushing LinkedIn post or humble bragging - just exited quietly with messages to a few colleagues and clients within two months of my decision.
So began the best job I’ve never had. Retirement.
This caught some friends and family off guard, having been convinced of my working until death because I was apparently that kinda guy. Guess not.
My career in the software industry began in the throes of the early 90s recession, though I didn’t realize that economic state at the time. The industry was nascent and the sales career I accidentally fell into after a Poli Sci degree had little structure, few mentors, fewer rules and attracted no respect. But we soon developed rigour, influence and a bit of swagger and this unexpected career with nearly a dozen companies took me careening through the crazy dot com era in newfound management roles, onward through industry ups and downs, and into its general maturation phase. It was a whirlwind trip I would trade for nothing, during a time that afforded opportunities, freedom and experiences few could replicate today given the formulaic way things now operate.
It was also a brutal, unrelenting career that didn’t coddle, brooked no weakness and publicly declared your worth every quarter and year - overshadowed by knowing the unforgiving consequences of under-performance. No hiding, no excuses and no resting on past glories.
I enjoyed most of it. But miss none of it.
More than halfway through I had an epiphany. A workshop facilitator during a company event had itemized and described two buckets of personality traits and tendencies, then asked us to gather in respective groups based on where we most identified. I was the last to choose a cohort, wrestling against logic in my head - then wandered bewilderedly to join the programmers and wallflowers. Everyone was positive I’d misunderstood the instructions and a colleague tried to drag me over to my people – the gregarious, outgoing pack – For god’s sake man, you’re in sales!
For clarity, to this point I hadn’t lived a life lacking in introspection nor was I an unread fellow, but that day was truly illuminating - learning I was an introvert and that I’d been mostly playing the role of an extrovert by happenstance and necessity much of my life. And much of it was due to the career I’d inadvertently landed in.
I have no lid upon my head, but if I did, you could look inside and see what’s on my mind.
Dave Matthews Band
This recalibrated my approach to business and sharpened elements of my personal life. It brought to memory tendencies of youth where the pleasures of spending time alone in the bush, shooting hoops in the driveway or reading - or preferring to hang out with a friend watching movies were always tugged by the expectation that I should be out partying. And it recalled later life where I felt compelled to socialize on weekends when quiet nights with my wife called more strongly.
Fast forward a while and one of my most prized possessions is a simple framed Henry David Thoreau quote that hung on my parents’ wall for years and now occupies a spot in my home office. Its personal impact draws mainly from my father’s quoting of it at my wedding, as an insight to my life approach, “If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it’s because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.”
With these influences firmly in pocket when pondering retirement, there was no question I needed to carve out my own path to march along. A life of golf, travel and woodworking was not to be.
Early in the process I scanned a few books and online lectures while tuning in to acquaintances who’d preceded me into post-work life. Mostly I heard of building plans, staying busy, getting involved, developing hobbies, stepwise transitioning and creating engagement frameworks for this exciting new journey.
Then I promptly ignored it all and went cold turkey with a blank slate. Here was my thinking…
After a structured childhood formed by parents, a school life influenced by teachers and pursuit of achievement, a working and married life focused on responsibility, and a lifetime of colouring inside the lines of societal expectation while responding to its pressures – I wasn’t entirely sure the me I purportedly was, matched the me I really was. And this after a life with plenty of internal musing, exploration and adventure. What if this was the one big chance to view life afresh with fewer preconceptions, demands and responsibilities? How could that happen if I pre-planned it all based on the guy I thought I was?
The only way I knew to tackle it was to create a big chunk of nothingness ahead and see where it led. So I finished work, wrapped up consulting and ended Board involvement. Fortunately my dear wife remained despite being unsure what the heck was coming. A previously full calendar transformed into blocks of white space stretching onward. And I loved it.
Before we continue – let’s spare a few words about being busy.
Modern life seems to enjoy a love-hate relationship with busy-ness. To be busy is to be valued, needed, important and vital. For some former colleagues, having a day of back-to-back meetings was bested only by one that was back-to-back-to-back. To complain of being busy is a status symbol for many – the sighing warrior taking one for the team. Asking about someone’s day often results in a proud, “Busy, busy, busy!“ And the online world is rife with hacks and technology to squeeze the most from every minute - training us to be even busier.
During my headiest working days, I’ll admit demands on my schedule fueled my ego and self-importance. But while I often enjoyed what I was doing I was always irritated by the glorification of busy – yet I was steeped in it.
Well, it turns out the busy-ness bug has firmly invaded the land of retirement as well.
Busy can be a proxy for being relevant or useful and I increasingly understand those urges as non-working years pass. But I wonder if busy sometimes becomes an end goal, rather than simply the by-product of a desirable life. “How will I keep busy?” is a regular worry from many pondering their end of working days, with a prime concern being how to fill the yawning void and not necessarily offer fulfillment.
Meanwhile, most retirees I know have daily schedules stuffed full and planned months ahead. Some are very active with children and grandchildren. Some live for travel. Some take up typical hobbies of retirement. Some continue working on the side. Some are industriously learning new instruments, signing up for activities and engaged strongly in community. Some happily rhyme off their upcoming schedules and tell how they can’t figure where they ever found the time to work. And a few good-naturedly complain as though they have no control, but surely know different.
That they are all so much busier than me would have long ago made me question myself, but no longer. And I’m delighted their chosen paths offer pleasure, meaning, and connection. There seems no right or wrong approach to retirement, only your own way, as varied as the people and circumstances themselves.
My approach is less structured and decidedly un-busy - making up most days as I go, though centered around a few self-imposed basics.
Mornings follow prescribed routines and latter days are more freeform. Workouts are a daily non-negotiable, as I prioritize keeping the old man at bay. The seasons all offer outdoor options as I choose to be unhampered by weather. Reading and writing feature prominently some days. Chores and errands intersperse the week, as does cooking within each day. Daily to-dos in my head or scribbled down are gratifying when done, but no longer plague me if skipped. I can readily hang out on a chair and watch the bird feeder activity for a while or occasionally take a daytime nap without feeling angst. Personal appointments sometimes dot my calendar though I’m delighted in weeks where nothing externally compels me. Get-togethers with friends and family happen irregularly but are enjoyable. Date nights are unscheduled but always a treat. Travel offers little draw, having done plenty in the past, yet open to some in the future. Life, at the moment, is quite simple.
For some this may sound like bliss and for others, torture. I offer none of it as advice - as though my approach has any bearing on what will bring you contentment.
Through it all I recognize the good fortune of my life, health, marriage and relationships. Any smugness of financial security or robust health has morphed into gratitude, though I am proud of both and prioritize the latter.
Accomplishment is still important to me but now takes on different form as I strive for fewer externalities, and goals are more discrete.
Four years in, I feel more like the me I thought I was. Some edges are flintier and others chiseled softer. Thoughts have further clarified and what makes me tick continues coming into better view along with the confidence to embrace it. As years pass, I find myself drifting toward tendencies and perspectives of younger days and sometimes those of my parents, a function of either growth or reversion - I don’t know which.
This retirement thing is a trip with no particular destination, despite a non-negotiable ending. Without question it will take on different looks as the years pass but I am doing little planning and letting it mostly just happen.
A neighbour recently asked me the favorite retiree question, “So, ya keepin’ busy?”, to which I replied, “Well, I’m pleasantly occupied”.
And that about sums it up for now.
Stay tuned and stay pragmatic.
I did what few do, and realized I had 'enough', enough to provide me with a middle class income for the rest of my life. So I quit the high bucks finance job at 44. House was paid for. Still earned some income, volunteered at various places, and am now drawing a pension (not CP) at 67, still fine. I feel no guilt about taking as long as I want reading the NP, putter in the garden, read, take walks, and, oops! don’t watch tv. You job isn’t your identity.
A very appros and timely piece. I find myself enjoying more and more the days of unscheduled nothingness or what I refer to as “putsing around”. I yearn more for quiet days than those scheduled and, yes, prioritizing keeping the “old man” at bay. Thanks for writing this … now to enjoy my hot morning coffee and contemplate how un-busy I can be today :-)