Someone asked me the other day, half seriously, if I wanted to sell AGEIST and, if I did, what would I do. Panic rose up my spine as I tried to envision what my life would be like with this world that I had created no longer being the center of my life. After a long pause, I said, “Well, yes. I guess at some point someone will make me an offer I can’t refuse and I will just have to move on to doing something new.” As I was saying this, all I could feel was vertigo. What would I do every day? Who would I speak to? Who would be counting on me? What would I focus my attention on? Exercise and hobbies are fine, but they would be a tiny diet of stimulation compared to my life now. Would I become, horror of horrors, bored?
Not being an elite athlete myself, the question I like to ask retired ones is: What happened when you ended your career and you became mortal? I have yet to hear one of them tell me it was not incredibly disorienting. Athletes at that level have generally been coached extensively that, at some point in the near future, the Wheaties box will no longer be there; whereas most of the rest of us are left to fend for ourselves. The R word: Retirement. I, for one, find the thought of it both alluring and frightening. Based on our interviews, the key here seems to be to prepare an off-ramp that is aligned with how you want to feel. If you are coming from an intense work environment — say, an EMT or surgeon — understand that you are acclimated to a world of cortisol and consequences, and that going to something less stressful, but where people still very much count on you and your expertise, may be a good fit you. Golf all day every day may not be the thing for you. Feeling adrenaline-deprived in retirement? There are plenty of scary things you can do to get that familiar feeling back.
If coming from a very structured work life, try to fill up the white space on your calendar. It can be with all manner of things you enjoy that are similar in routine but less onerous than your work life was. The idea is to align the mental and emotional world of work with a somewhat down-shifted post-work world. We want to avoid both disorientation of too much newness, and also the feeling of uselessness that sometimes accompanies it. Work is much more than income: it is self-worth, community, and meaning. These are essential elements of our happiness and will need to be replaced. It could just mean more time with grandkids, yoga, and helping out in the neighborhood. It could also mean something considerably more ambitious. The idea is to align how you want to feel, not what you want to do, with your plans.
Onward and upward,
David
