What is “retirement”?
Cindy on August 13th, 2008
Retirement has been a discovery of beauty for me. I never had the time before to notice the beauty of my grandkids, my wife, the tree outside my very own front door. And, the beauty of time itself.” ~Hartman Jule
Not long ago, Jamie Lee Curtis — a terrific role model for 50-something women — told reporters she was no longer accepting movie roles. She would focus, instead, on spending more time with her family and writing children’s books — so, of course, this didn’t mean she was “retiring.” Curtis has another life — a richly textured life. Regardless, when most of us walk away from major careers, we typically think of ourselves as “retired,” and we have to craft a whole new self image, not to mention a reason to justify our very existence.
Ours is a workaholic culture. While Baby Boomers give lip service to the theory that leisure is good for us, we’re not very good at practicing it. Few of us like to use the words “retired” or “retirement.” Retirement wears the dubious sheen of laziness, suggesting too many hours spent dangling in a hammock or schlepping around a golf course. And if you’re still unable to think outside the old corporate box, you might assume that being retired means you’ve shed your usefulness.
I had this same conversation with a “semi-retired” neighbor I spotted yesterday on my morning bike ride. My neighbor was walking his dog, looking unusually relaxed and happy. Now in his late fifties, my neighbor found himself in “early retirement” when his company downsized two years ago. This year, he’s been working at a part-time job, just two days a week. He spends the rest of his time focusing on interests he’d postponed for years — fly fishing, reading, spending more time with his wife. Of course, he’s had to readjust his budget (like most retirees) but his youngest kid just finished college and his family can manage, he said. His wish list always included studying the major literary classics — and for the first time in ages, he’s making progress. Life is good now, he said, but it took a while for him to adjust to a new rhythm — and a different view of himself. I know exactly what he meant.
I’m thinking of the time, back in the 1990s, when I lost a magazine editorship I’d held for nearly six years. (The magazine had won awards and was respected by its industry and its readers, but, as the old story goes, advertisers weren’t keeping it afloat.) Until the magazine folded, I hadn’t realized how tightly my self image had been tied to my illustrious title of “Editor in Chief.” Even though I was a devoted wife, mother, and homemaker, I listed my editorship at the top of my resume and mentioned it first when people at cocktail parties would ask, “What do you do?”
As my semi-retired friend and I agreed, if we are people of any depth, we are not what we do. Call it what you will — job loss or retirement — career change shakes up our way of being and forces us to re-examine who we are without our labels. Career change invites us to reinvent ourselves, make new discoveries, and even to become three-dimensional at last. Scary? Yes, but also very exciting. — Cindy La Ferle
