"Those who love deep never grow old. They may die of age, but they die young."
- Arthur Wing Pinero from "The Princess and the Butterfly" 1897

This is the first Monday since I have been retired nine months, and I continue to be very happy about my decision to retire, and grateful that my work at the university has allowed me this opportunity. It is especially lovely to live in our beautiful mountains with my wonderful partner, Sue. In the past week, winter has finally come to the Sierra Nevada, and we’ve enjoyed looking out at the beautiful snow this past weekend. Even shoveling snow is enjoyable for me, and I indulged my playful nature by taking a break from my shoveling the other day to build a snowman. I’m sure it is at least fifty years since I built one of those by myself!

Most of my weeks feature a satisfying mix of useful, productive, work and time for things I simply want to do. There are the routine chores that need to be done, and I’m glad to be able to do my share. I often think of my paraphrase of a Zen koan. Before retirement, chop wood, carry water. After retirement, chop wood, carry water. This is so true, and it makes me smile, especially because, while I don’t carry a lot of water, I do chop and carry a lot of wood for our woodstove! I’ve found that doing physical labor provides some of my best opportunities to think about the big questions, and to not think at all. When I’m splitting firewood, cutting and raking brush, shoveling snow, or doing similar chores, I often experience a peaceful feeling similar to meditation, or find myself thinking about love, eternity, and why we are here.

I enjoy reading, writing, walking in our mountains, and time to visit with friends and loved ones. I’ve taken the advice from my beloveds to get out of the house and stay active, and I am walking with a neighbor who is about my father’s age. He’s an interesting man, and we both get a lot of good from our walks and visits. I take time to work with my hands and find great satisfaction in working with wood, and cooking. The feel of the wood, or dough, in my hands, the scent of fresh-cut cedar, or baking bread. The satisfaction of making something beautiful or nourishing for a loved one, and the joy of thinking of those I’m making things for as I work, is lovely.

As always, I get great joy from music. Taking time to play and sing, by myself, for my friends and loved ones, or to play and sing with others at a local pub, is such great fun, and so relaxing! I continue to learn some good new things. To gain more confidence with instruments I haven’t played as much, and to find new ways of playing the guitar after nearly 50 years. I continue to catch new songs from time to time, and there are many songs I’ve started over the past year that I would like to spend some time with, so they can help me finish what we’ve started together. I'm looking forward to playing a benefit with some friends for one of our local community organizations later this week, and I’ve even started going to some meetings of a local ukulele club. There are endless ways to be part of the music, and it’s such a lovely way to experience all we share.

Beginning in January, I have gone back to work part time and I am enjoying that opportunity. I’d always hoped this would be an option for me, and I am grateful to the university for this chance to keep contributing while I taper off from full-time work, and to earn a few extra dollars in the process. One of my very best friends, who has retired and not returned to work, said to me that he hopes I’ll enjoy being back at work, and that it will help me realize just how much I enjoy being retired full time. I’m pretty certain that’s what will happen. It’s great to see the people here again, and to be useful in their work together. It’s wonderful to have been offered the chance to work at the things I am best at, and most enjoy, while spending little to no time on the parts of the job I never much liked. We’ve agreed that I’ll work for a number of months, and then we’ll decide together if I will continue for a while longer. I know there will come a day when I will happily return to full-time retirement!

The most valuable advice I received as I prepared for retirement continues to be that I should have a plan for my time, as I will be busier than I expected to be. That is certainly true. There are so many projects I’d like to get done, both practical and for sheer enjoyment, so many books I’d like to read, things I’d like to think and write about, songs I’d like to write, and sing. There are so many hours I’d like to spend in the mountains, or at the lake, so many places I’d like to go and see with Sue. A list of adventures we’d like to share with friends. So many hours I’d like to spend with her, and all our loved ones. It’s over nine months since I retired, and I still need to finish getting my home office set up! I’m getting there, one step at a time, but it is a lesson in priorities. I’ve also begun volunteering time with political causes that I support, and it feels good to be doing something that I hope will make a difference in that sphere as well.

I am so grateful that retirement has given me more time for Sue, our loved ones, family, and friends. I have had more time to spend with them, and to do things for them. Most of this time has been a great joy, and some has been spent as we deal, together, with some of the harder things in life. Age and illness touches every family, and I do what I can to offer loving support, especially to our loved ones bearing more of the burden of care, or facing the sad and difficult times that come to us all. I’ve also had some wonderful satisfying times spent talking with younger members of our family about career and future, and I’m touched that they find talking with me helpful. My experience with mentoring, and simply listening, during my career is bringing an added sweetness to being a father, uncle, brother, and friend.

I’m also finding opportunities to grow as a person. Even as an older, retired, man, I still find that I need to work on my self-assurance. Caring for those I love has always been central to who I am, and I’ve always needed to work on loving myself. There are still times when I worry more than I should about whether I am enough. Giving enough. Loving enough. Understanding and caring enough. Quiet enough. I do talk a lot. I’ve often reminded others to be gentle with themselves, and I work to take my own good advice. I need to make more of an effort to have social times with friends, especially now that I have so much more opportunity to stay at home. I’m grateful for the technology that helps me stay close to loved ones across the miles, and I will keep visiting with them this way when we cannot be together. I’m working to make more time to spend with people closer to home. Planning lunch or dinner with friends, nurturing new friendships as the shape of my life changes in retirement. I am looking forward to a visit with friends at SHARE in Sacramento next week, and I’m glad that Sue and I can combine that with some new adventures of our own.

In retirement, I find myself looking forward, and looking back from a new perspective. Looking back, for the most part I am happy with what I see. I am so deeply thankful for the people and experiences that have made my years so rich and meaningful so far. We’ve laughed and cried, and grown together. We’ve seen so many wonderful places and moments. I’ve met with grace when I have failed, and with patience that helped me grow stronger, braver, more humble, and more loving. It is thanks to my loved ones, my beloved partner Sue, our sons, my mother, sisters, all our family, and beloved friends, that I have grown to be the man I am today. I become my best self by living in a relationship of love with them. I have looked with love into their eyes, and found their love for me shining back. It is the greatest blessing.

Looking forward, I am filled with hope, wonder, and the wish that I will be granted many more years to share with my loved ones the two greatest gifts we can be given. The gifts of time, and love. Way we walk together under the stars, through the forest, and by the water. May we hear the laughter of our children and grandchildren. May we feel each other near in the silence of our hearts. Always, even when my years are done, may I find myself gazing into their eyes with love, and find the love we share shining back to me.

© 2018 James Michael. The text of this work is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0