Retirement Daydreams

Of late, the cold weather and weekly work/parenting grind make it easy for me to get lost in retirement daydreams. Yet most people, if they thought about it for more than a few minutes, would realize that, however lovely a cocktail on a sunny beach may sound, it’s not likely a truly fulfilling life, even if you can afford it. 

On the other hand, sometimes I worry when I hear people say they can’t stand the idleness of retirement and instead feel the need to keep busy. I worry because I am myself susceptible to that impulse, and don’t want to make busyness or work an idol in my life such that I feel lost without it. 

Given how hard I drive myself, it may come as a surprise that taking it easy is not something that I struggle to do, when given the space to do it. I enjoy working hard and can tolerate and even thrive while running myself ragged. But it need not define me and in fact I am conscious that this is all for a season and a purpose rather than a sustainable way of living indefinitely.

So I would hope that, if I am lucky enough to afford a retirement phase in my life that is not two seconds before the end of my life, that I would, without being an absolute beach bum, still downshift considerably from my current pace and not feel the need to refill my schedule with activities solely to make up for what used to fill up my days. 

To be sure, there are pursuits I’d love to have more time for, which I hope to be lucky enough to “make it” so that I can enjoy them, like more golf and more reading and more time with Amy and more time with friends. That seems appropriate and delightful, worth working towards and dreaming of. 

A lot of people talk about retiring into a second career or at least a second calling: a job that scratches different itches, or a vocation that draws from wisdom collected over a long career like writing or public speaking. Be useful, give back, have something to look forward to. Eh, maybe. It seems rewarding and I daresay life-giving to continue to invest in issues and in people. But it’s a slippery slope from keeping in touch with enjoyable people and reading up on pet issues, to going down the rabbit hole of having to be busy and useful in order to be happy. 

Maybe I have a book (or 10) in me, or a canned speech or the civic role of a lifetime. Or maybe I can cultivate contentedness in the simplicity of a slower pace, taking care of my body and mind, being available to family and friends without having to maximize every minute. If I’m lucky enough to make it to retirement, you may not catch me lounging poolside, but you may be surprised that you probably also won’t catch me racing around like I do now.