When I mention that I am recently retired, people have one of three stock responses:
- Oh lucky you!
- Don’t worry - you will be busier than ever.
- What are you going to do with all your time?
My responses are, in order:
- Hmmmm.
- What’s so great about that?
- I don’t have the foggiest.
If the person has not fled, I might add (again, in order):
- I loved what I did. I will miss it. I already do. Where else can I talk organic chemistry to people? Where else will I find a willing audience to hear about the toxicity of fireflies or color changes in squid?
- I want to find a few things I can love as much as I did before retirement. In religious terms, this means I need to be still for a while and listen for what I am called to do during this next bit of my life. What is my vocation for the next decade? I am not interested in just “stuff” to do, busyness that fills up my dance card and keeps me running rampant and missing appointments, although that type of stuff will play a part of my next decade or two or three, just as it has been part of my last many decades. I am waiting to discover the passion that will have room for me, will give my life meaning, and provide a new community engaged in a common purpose.
- It seems that some people want the recent retiree to have it all figured out, to be champing at the bit to get to do that which she never had a chance to do before retirement. My husband was indeed one of those people. He happily tossed his old chemistry books and disappeared into the basement to build a railroad, emerging periodically to join others passionately involved in the same pursuit.
I look back on lost loves, lost community, and lost engagement in the common good. And I don’t have the new love, the new community, or the new engagement in the common good in my sights yet. I do have faith that one day I will look in my lap and say: “Aha! There it is!” and skip off to jump in or join up.
I am not there yet.
