Retirement, Part 1

Retirement, Part 1

   For those of you youngsters, this subject of retirement will likely have little interest;  after all, even I get tired of the seemingly endless articles saying, "You won't have enough so better let us handle your money."  The warnings are dire...unless you have millions saved, best not to even think about retiring because, well, before long you'll be out on the street...really?  And who exactly is making those millions, the big money...hmmm, well last year, the top 4 hedge fund managers were paid more than the combined salaries of every kindergarten teacher in the U.S.  So what's wrong with this picture?  Number one lesson for those of you heading into retirement, be it 30 years away or 30 weeks away, you future is up to you.  Save, plan, and set goals...tough to do when retirement seems like it'll never happen or everything will be gone by the time you get there.  But that's been said for a hundred years.  So far, I've been lucky so by all means, take these few reflections from me (most of which I wrote when I initially retired nearly 2 years ago), with a grain of salt...maybe throw in the entire container for these are only my humble opinion of what happens when one finally takes the plunge and retires. 

   When you first plop into retirement, you basically are nervous.  You giddily slap the backs of fellow retirees and enjoy a few toasts and cheers from friends and coworkers who are now quite distant (you are no longer in the trenches with them and, like a soldier whose tour is over, you are gone and they have more important things to do so goodbye, good luck, sorry gotta go, now get out of here…and poof, just like that they are gone, a memory pebble in the pond of chance).  Besides, the back of your mind is chatting away, wondering about things such as “where is that check,” and “ what if something catastrophic happens to me” and “can I/we afford this” (you hope that you ran your numbers correctly), and “what do I do now?”  Then you fall back asleep.

    The arrival of the first retirement check (those of you with one of those rare pension plans) brings you a breath of fresh air, as if you’ve been snorkeling in water a bit deeper than you thought, not quite enough to drown but still enough to make you appreciate your return to the surface.  You take a peek and suddenly, there’s a comedic sort of sigh; perhaps it’s not the fortune you expected but hey, it’s close to what you were projecting and you know what, you might just be able to pull this off.  Then health care…phew, they got your check and yes, you’re covered (those of you lucky enough to have the option of jumping into COBRA, the federal government’s ease-into-retirement subsidized health plan that gives you the 18-month option to keep your employer’s health coverage at a reduced rate).  These small things give you a feeling of normalcy, that things will continue on as if you had never left; no break of routine, no radical changes like your home catching on fire and you’re out on the street…start over.  At this point, being older and all, you want routine, at least initially.  For despite all your grandiose plans to explore the world and learn five languages and recapture your youth (good luck) and get in shape (double good luck), all that you really want is to know that you’ll be okay, or at least okay enough to keep saying (and possibly actually do) all those things.

    So, three months in, there you are…and yes, you’re okay (almost, much to your surprise and, as you can tell, I am still surprised since much of this diatribe has shifted to the third person as if I am hearing this all from my own internal counselor).  So what’s part two?   Well, when one has time,  one does have time…time to read, time to wander, time to watch videos, time to waste.  And also time to reflect, for doesn’t one’s stereotype of ‘retired” also mean “old?”  Or at least “older?”  So many stories go around of “he died 6 months after he retired,”  or “she got in a bad car accident right after retiring.”  No, I can say that you have those thoughts and fears but even those fade after a bit.  Sure, it could happen but instead, those thoughts hurl you into using what time you have left, and now you’ve got a shitload (excuse the language) of time.  And it becomes a Catch-22.  Why clean out the garage now when you have all of next week, or next month or next year?  As for those books you’ve never read, well, plenty of time to catch up on those since they’re still sitting there…might as well go grab some others at the library and read those since they are current and might not be there in a few weeks (ha!…as if!).  And check out all the great mysteries you missed from the BBC, or those documentaries, not to mention the latest titles shooting out at RedBox-NetFlix-Amazon.  Ooops, time to eat and hey, check out that lunch special at the new sushi bar…half off!  Cheaper than cooking and hey, I’m all over that deal.  And look at what Amazon and SignPost and LivingSocial are dashing out to me; why I’ve never seen such deals that I didn’t know I needed.  Yeah, right.

    So as you can tell, you sort of get blitzed by what’s out there, things that you ignored forever simply because you 1) didn’t have time, 2) didn’t have the money and 3) didn’t think it was a priority (see 1 and 2).  And to be sure, you discover lots of good and bad (the sushi place was good, the BBC mysteries --with the exception of the Wire In the Blood and the Luther series which were pretty much outstanding and on a par with Prime Suspect-- were okay).  And you realize that those books on the shelf will likely stay on the shelf, unread and getting older and more irrelevant --like you-- by the minute.  Did you make your mark on the world?  Did you do good?  And really, where DO you want to go from here? 

    For me, I jumped into piano lessons (yes, lured into a deal from Amazon Local), puzzled at why I could easily play the guitar and violin (which both used each hand separately as when one plucks the guitar while changing chords) yet couldn’t “break” my hands and feet when it came to the piano.  What was this brain lock of sorts and could it be something as simple as breaking a pattern?  And it was fun, for awhile, learning triads and intervals and augmented reading.  But the bigger discovery was the pleasure of  being pushed.  Learning on your own is fun, and indeed there’s a bit of laziness in all of us;  sure, that book or language was interesting but what will we really do with that information so perhaps tomorrow you’ll take it up in earnest (doesn't happen).  But with a lesson (that you’ve paid for, which I think might be a large part of it), you almost feel under pressure.  After all, next week is a test of sorts to see if you’ve been practicing and if you’ve done the online exercises and have mastered what the two darling 6-year olds outside the door whose lessons are after you have already accomplished.  It’s as if you can hunch your back and saunter out the door muttering “skorokoro” (the African Shangaan term for “too old to learn”) or go home and practice.  And when you see things happening, like your lungs expanding upon running or your brain buzzing after a stimulating conversation (one which causes you to go home and learn more or changes your direction), you are again excited.  For this is the time to learn, now, when you actually want to learn.  And as Sharon Butala wrote in her award-winning book years ago, The Perfection of the Morning, what you think you always wanted to do often makes you discover the opposite, that you really didn’t want to do that but instead, have to really think again…in other words, to start doing what you should have been doing all along.

    Quite sobering, only now you can hear the clock actually ticking.  And for me, I think of being in a hospital bed hooked up to IVs and gazing around my room, finally realizing that all these cluttered possessions (which my wife has accurately told me to shed for decades) are truly worthless, as silly as a Pharaoh being buried with jewels and fancy robes.  Now, does that make me start throwing everything out? Ah, no…and we’re back to the piano.  For this is again likely a pattern that needs breaking, another brain lock that has somehow brought comfort, true or false.

    So what lies underneath?  Placed under hypnosis (which I did and discovered that hypnosis has been also termed another form of meditation but with a guide), you can see another world of sorts; for me, one session brought a relaxing float in space of lava lamp reds and maroons, faces I didn't recognize but were warm and welcoming, space ever expanding, nothingness.  It was a fascinating journey, a chemical delight of one’s own imagination, a wide-awake dream (for you are, after all, aware that you're awake).  All in all, a preparation for my next phase of life, a move onward transitioning as smoothly as a photo sliding across your cell phone.  Poof, it’s gone, that entire part of your life, work…still stored there somewhere and able to be briefly reviewed; but gone. 

   Myself?  I am lucky to be at this point, unscathed, unharmed and able to turn and move forward.  And tomorrow?...Part II (okay, you're disappointed at that old writing trick, just like the bad pun title from yesterday's missive...but hey, that's another part of retirement, another part of life).