Retirement?
I will be the first generation of my ancestors to retire. They all left their regular work feet first. I therefore have no insight of private thoughts, fears or concerns, leading to retirement and I can only rely on superficial observations of those already there.
I’ve known people who couldn’t wait to retire. It was enough financial independence to maintain their life style and out the door. The American/Canadian dream. But the reward for a long virtuous working period often became a punishment. Retire to what? It was a period of limbo. No more identity with your job and co-workers. The kids were gone and the wives had their routines and the husbands were not invited into these. There was a burst of daily entertainment such as golfing, travel, or house maintenance and this gradually shrank down to occasional activities amongst long periods of killing time. If you had all day, it took all day. Some recognized the time -killing choice between work and daytime television, and others found that being able to golf all day was not as much fun as sneaking off to golf and playing hookey. About one third of men and 12% of women went back to work for a paycheck.
After about a decade, their world got smaller and their interests shrank. Apathy set in. It was a day of doctor visits and household chores Their network of friends got smaller and the conversations became repeats of the same opinion as the previous conversation. Nothing novel, nothing new. Just the good old days.
So why the hell would I retire into that? I enjoyed a career in medicine but the administration of a private practice just kept piling on. Sure, I could have hired it out but this is called overhead and is occurring in a reality of lower payments for more work. I had reached financial independence some time ago and began dreading the administrative time. But I have not reached my past due date yet.
I wish to have several more adventures while I can still carry my own luggage. Sedentary doesn’t work for me, so I will save the cruises for the future when the French maid has to push my waning body around in a wheel chair.
But how to align my values with my new adulthood? How to get through the 8th stage of Erikson? Sitting in a bathtub with a significant other, a glass of wine and a pocket full of Cialis is not my thing.
We are giving the younger generation a world of rapid, competitive change but they have no grit. In the 600 years since the Gutenberg press, there has not been such an improvement in the availability of knowledge like the internet has provided. But we have not taught the kids the skills to use it. They cannot see past the entertainment. I believe I can still be of benefit to someone and pass on my decades of accumulated skills, experience and guile.
A teenager decided my last 50 years, but now the time has arrived for a 70 year old to make plans. This is the bell lap of a marathon and I am about 85% finished.
I am not going to retire; I have graduated.
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