“I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.” - Maya Angelou

Before the end of this month, I’ll be retired. While I’ve been doing all I can to prepare for this change in my life, I’m also aware that I really won’t have any idea what it feels like to be retired until I am. I wonder what's next and how I’ll choose to spend my time. I ask myself  “What do I want to do when I grow up to be a man who is retired?” and “What have I been waiting to do?” From my conversations with loved ones and colleagues who are retired, I know that being retired will not mean having unlimited time, and that it will mean I’ll have more responsibility for what I do with my days.

I’ve written before about the Vedic idea that life is composed of stages, or ashrama. I’m in the midst of transition from my life as a householder, in the grihastha stage, to retired life in the vanaprastha stage. Moving from a life centered on the career I’ve pursued to help provide for our family and home as we’ve raised our children, to one that will focus more on honoring the next generation as our sons begin their lives as householders. I’ll be seeking to respect these changes, and to take a more advisory role instead of the more leading role I’ve been playing. Vanaprastha, वनप्रस्थ in Sanskrit, can be translated to "retiring into a forest", and I am quite literally doing that. I hope this will be a time when I will grow in new ways, emotionally and spiritually, to play a new role in the life of our family and community. I hope it will be a new time of self discovery.

I had some chance to rehearse for retirement when I was unable to work for several months due to an illness several years ago. I think this will be a useful experience to reflect on as I actually retire, and I’m glad I’m in good health to enjoy my retirement! When I was ill, one of my closest friends suggested that I, “Write some songs. Use the piano. Write your feelings down. Send me a letter”, and I know I’ll do all those things as I enjoy my retirement. There are so many things that I feel I’ve been waiting to do. Now I will have the opportunity to choose to spend some time doing these things, and to learn which ones most fill my life with purpose, meaning, and joy.

In her book, “Quiet”, Susan Cain suggests several questions that a person can reflect on as they consider a career transition, and seek to understand their own “core personal projects.” I’m thinking about these questions as I prepare to retire. Cain suggests that I “think back to what you loved to do when you were a child”, and my answers come quickly. I loved music and singing, spending hours outside by the creek and in the fields, science and the stars, reading, and art. I will be choosing to spend more time in retirement with all these activities I love. There are songs I’ve started that wait to be finished and sung, the opportunity to explore the woods and mountains of our home with a camera or sketch pad, and to explore my inner world in the process. I’ll love having more time with a book in my hands, and gazing at the stars.

Cain asks, “How did you answer the question of what you wanted to be when you grew up?” My mother used to laugh as she’d tell the story of how I seemed to have a new idea for what I’d want to do practically every day when I was small. Some of the ideas that most stuck with me were to be a singer or rock star, an astronaut, a naturalist or botanist. From a very early age, I knew for certain that I wanted to fall in love and be a husband and father. I can’t imagine I’ll ever be a rock star or an astronaut now, but I can sing with my loved ones, and share the stars with them. I can walk the fields and mountains in search of wildflowers and wonder. I can go on enjoying the deep joy and satisfaction of having achieved my dearest wish of all as I retire with my beloved wife, and enjoy being husband, father, and maybe a grandfather one day.

Cain suggests that I “pay attention to the work you gravitate to”, and the answers to this question come more slowly. I know that, despite having spent most of my career as a manager and leader, I prefer working alone, or as a contributor on a team. I particularly enjoy helping others find greater satisfaction and happiness. I’ve had some of my most satisfying career experiences as a mentor or coach. I enjoy working as a volunteer with others who share my passion for something. I’ll be paying attention to these answers as I consider which opportunities I’ll pursue to give back to my community.

Finally, Cain says to “pay attention to what you envy. Jealousy is an ugly emotion, but it tells the truth.” For me this is the hardest of these questions to answer. I don’t really want admit that I’m envious or jealous of others. When I first read this, I found myself quickly playing with words, as I often do, and thought “Je lousy”. This silly multi-lingual play on words tells it like it is for me. When I’m jealous, it feels like I’m acting pretty lousy! Of course, I feel envy and jealousy like any man, but I am also quite happy with my life, and feel so fortunate to have so much of what really matters. Especially love.

As I seek my honest answers to Cain’s question, I find that envy seems to come with admiration for me. I envy and admire my friends who have made a life in the arts. The artists, actors, dancers, writers, and musicians. It’s not an easy life for many of them financially, and most have various day jobs to help make ends meet. Still, I so admire their courage, and their dedication to the arts they love. The commitment and sacrifice it’s taken for them to follow the muse. I envy and admire those who seem to be more comfortable with themselves than I am. Those who seem more self-sufficient and able to sit quietly, or speak out, and remain at peace. I enjoy time by myself, but I also know that this can be a time when I am aware of those aspects of myself that I am not as comfortable with. I’d like to make peace with myself over these things.

In retirement, I will have already earned my living through years of effort and dedication during my career. I hope I’ll have the courage and commitment to rededicate myself to the arts I love, especially music, and to grow as an artist. I remember the hours I spent practicing and composing as a boy, and I wonder what hours spent this way as a man in my 60s will bring. I know retirement will bring me better opportunities for emotional and spiritual growth, and I hope to make good use of these. I imagine myself taking more time for meditation and reflection, and doing the hard work necessary to find greater peace with who I am.

I look forward to so many things! To creative pursuits in music, woodworking, art and writing. To wander and wonder in the natural world. Hiking, looking, listening, and sitting quietly. To cook, brew, bake, and enjoy meals with my loved ones. To spend more time keeping healthy and strong with more exercise, and less sleep deprivation. To get things done by making, repairing, and maintaining our home. To make a difference giving to my loved ones, my community, and myself. More time spent being and, and less effort toward becoming.

Best of all, to have time with my loved ones. Time to talk and laugh. To travel and share our joy and wonder in this world, and time to simply relax together. Time alone with myself, and time together with my beloved wife and family, and with our precious friends. May I make the choices that help this new time in my life be a time of peace, and joy, and love.

© 2017 James Michael. The text of this work is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0