Monday, April 3, 2017

“Follow, poet, follow right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice.” - W.H. Auden from “In Memory of W.B. Yeats”Jim.pngAs retirement comes closer each week, I find myself looking forward to the new adventure ahead, and thinking about some of the most important and meaningful things from my career in IT. Many of these are lessons I’ve learned that have helped me be a better colleague, leader, and man. I know that most will serve me every bit as well in the next chapter of my life.

I’ve learned from my loved ones, from friends and colleagues, from mentors and teachers. I’ve learned from people who have been part of my life, and from philosophers, sages, historical figures, and authors who died long before I was born. A lover of reading, I’ve learned from books. From history, biography, some of the greatest classics of literature, and from some great modern fiction.

Today, I find myself thinking about a wonderful lesson that combines learning from my friends and loved ones, and from a wonderful book. I am fortunate to have a dear friend who shares my love of reading. My book buddy and I share favorite books with each other and I enjoy our visits about what we’ve been reading. Among the wonderful authors she has introduced me to is Louise Penny, and it was in Penny’s book, “Bury Your Dead” that I first encountered her Chief Inspector Gamache’s four sentences that lead to wisdom. I had come to this book looking forward to the relaxing escape of a murder mystery. I found that escape, and also one of the most compassionate characters I’ve ever encountered in a mystery novel.

Through Inspector Gamache, Louise Penny passes on four sentences, that she tells us he received from his mentor, and shares with each of his protegees. They are the four sentences that lead to wisdom:

I’m sorry.
I was wrong.
I need help.
I don’t know.

When I met these four sentences in her book, they were like old friends I had know most of my life. I don’t pretend that these were new ideas to me. Still, Penny showed them to me in a new way by sharing them through the words, thoughts, and actions of a caring man who struggled with them even as I have. As Armand Gamache strove to find the truth in a way that would help him do the right thing, I felt reenergized in my own efforts to practice saying these simple words, and meaning them.

“I’m sorry”. Of the four sentences, I think this one is the easiest for me to say. I am an emotional man and this is the one sentence that expresses an emotion. I am far from perfect, as we all are, and I have many opportunities to apologize for my mistakes. To apologize for doing wrong despite my earnest efforts to do what is right. I offer a truly heartfelt apology. The hard work comes from the fact that being sincerely sorry is seldom, if ever, enough. It is a first step toward committing to changing the things about myself that lead me to take wrong action, or make a particular mistake.

I think each of these four sentences offers a similar challenge. Having made any of these statements, we are then called to take action. “I was wrong”, was harder work for me. I’ve learned to say this almost as often as I need to, and it has been a humbling experience. I’ve tried so hard to do what is right, that there have been times when admitting that I am wrong has been very difficult for me. I’m grateful that I’ve learned that with “I was wrong”, I can give myself permission to make adjustments, or begin again, in my quest to do what is right.

“I need help”, is the one of these that I’ve been working on with the least success for the longest time. When I was a young teenager, my dear older sister, Nancy, first encouraged me to ask for help more often. I was walking, or riding my bike, miles to visit a friend, and Nancy tried to help me understand that I could ask her for a ride. From this simple beginning, I have worked to ask for help when I need it, but it’s still common for me to prefer to do things myself instead of asking others for help. As you can imagine, this is one of the reasons that delegating work has been more challenging for me. I’m glad to say that I’ve made real progress in this area over the years. At the same time, I’m sure I’ll need to keep working on the wisdom I can gain by asking for help.

“I don’t know”, is one of the most freeing of these four sentences for me. I grew up being praised for my intelligence, and have often been the one in my family who others turn to for answers. I’ve even been kidded about being “the keeper of all useless bits of knowledge” by my kids. I do know many things, and I’m happy and proud to have enjoyed accumulating knowledge during my life. The great thing about “I don’t know”, is that it helps me identify areas where I can learn more. After all, learning about, and researching, new things is something I really enjoy! “I don’t know” also gives others the opportunity to share their knowledge, and this is a wonderful way to learn, and to build relationships.

I never know when I will encounter something that helps me grow. I’m glad I found this sentences that lead to wisdom in a wonderfully written murder mystery. Louise Penny says that these books are inspired by two lines from W.H. Auden’s elegy, “Herman Melville”.

“Goodness existed, that was the new knowledge
his terror had to blow itself quite out to let him see it.”

In the face of even the terrifying evil of murder, Armand Gamache can see the goodness that exists. No wonder I like this character! My belief in the fundamental goodness of people is one of the most important parts of my world view. By practicing his four sentences that lead to wisdom, I have been able to improve my own goodness, and my ability to see, and encourage, goodness in others. I’m grateful to Louise Penny for giving me a new way to look at these ideas, and for the enjoyment I’ve found in reading her books. I’m very grateful to my dear book buddy for introducing me to so many wonderful books! I know that reading will be a lovely part of my retirement.

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

Monday, March 27, 2017


"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better." - Samuel Beckett from “Worstward Ho”
In 1969, Laurence J. Peter advanced his theory that "In a hierarchy every employee tends to rise to his level of incompetence” and The Peter Principle has had a great deal of influence on the teaching of management ever since. While, being an optimist, I can’t help but hope that Dr. Peter’s principle is not as universal as he claimed, I admit that I’ve been concerned about reaching my own level of incompetence before retiring from my professional career.

I also sometimes find it hard to value my knowledge and experience, and other abilities or qualities, as much as others do. I tend to hold myself to a pretty high standard, can be my own worst critic, and have had a very real fear of failing before I reached the finish line of my career. Not of simply failing in the way we all do every day. The failing that helps us learn and grow stronger, but a fear of failing utterly. As I look forward to retirement, less than 9 weeks from today, I’m grateful that I seem to have escaped The Peter Principle, and it appears I will be able to finish my career in a way that will allow me to feel proud of what I’ve accomplished.

Dr. Peter points out that in most hierarchical organizations, we base our selection of candidates to advance to more responsible positions on their performance in their current roles, rather than on the knowledge, experience, and abilities they would need for the new role. Where this is true, the selection process rewards past performance but does little to ensure future success. He paints a bleak picture for such an organization where “in time every post tends to be occupied by an employee who is incompetent to carry out its duties” and “work is accomplished by those employees who have not yet reached their level of incompetence."

I’m glad to say that I don’t believe I’ve seen much evidence that this is the situation at our university. While there will always be those who are more and less successful as they assume more responsible roles, I have participated in may recruitment processes that included significant efforts to understand how candidates’ knowledge, abilities, and experience prepare them for success in a new role, and that consider how they would fit with the culture of the organizations they would serve in that role. In that sense, our organization, while hierarchical, doesn’t entirely fit Dr. Peter’s description of one where candidates are selected based primarily on their performance in their current role. We also make a significant effort to support professional development that allows people to develop the new skills and knowledge they will need to be successful.

As I look at my own apparent escape from The Peter Principle, I’m struck by the fact that the only time I advanced in my career at the university through our recruitment process was when I was initially hired in 1989. Every time since then that I have applied for a more responsible position, I’ve been considered seriously, but was ultimately unsuccessful. Every time I advanced to a more responsible position, it was because our leadership believed I had something to offer in that role and asked me to accept greater responsibility. Perhaps my escape is partly due to the fact that the process used to select me for advancement considered the qualities I’d need to succeed as well as my past performance.

I appreciate that the leaders I served saw something in me that lead them to ask me to do more. That they valued my abilities, and character, and challenged me to grow. To my own credit, I had enough confidence in myself to say yes to these opportunities, and my high standards often meant that striving to meet my own expectations lead me to exceed theirs. With only one exception, I served leaders who encouraged me to keep growing and who supported the professional development activities that helped me increase my value to our university.

I also made some choices with regard to my career aspirations that may have helped ensure that I remained working at a level where I was able to make valuable contributions. Earlier in my career, I had considered seeking a position as Chief Information Officer. I believed I had the vision and leadership ability to serve effectively in that role. After careful consideration, I chose not to pursue that goal and, instead, to remain a senior operational IT leader while advocating for our university to hire its first CIO. While it is possible that I would have made a good CIO, I am satisfied with the choice I made. I never did face the challenge of serving at that more responsible level, and will never know for certain if I could have done so successfully.  

The greater challenges and demands of the increasingly responsible roles I’ve played in my career were a factor in my decision, too. The stress and pressure that came with these positions, including the demands of my own high standards and my difficulty in saying no, took a toll on me. My fear of failing professionally, becoming incompetent to do my job well, were joined by a fear that I would fail physically, mentally, or emotionally before I’d reached a point where I could retire with confidence that my family would be financially secure. A stress-related illness three years ago also helped me decide to retire a bit earlier than I’d originally planned. I’m so very grateful to my wonderful wife, and all our loved ones, for their support as I’ve recovered, and as we’ve made a plan for retirement that allows me to end my career on a high note.

I am relieved to see the finish line so near now! I’m glad that the university hired its first CIO in time for me to help with the transition to that new model for our IT organization. I’m grateful to our CIO and all our colleagues for the way they have allowed me to participate in that process as Executive Director. I’m proud of the teams I have been leading over these past 16 months in my interim role as Director of Client Services, and grateful to the stakeholders whose colleges, schools, and divisions we serve for being such wonderful colleagues as I’ve played one more new role before I say farewell.  

I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished, with the help of so many others, in my nearly 28 years working in IT at our university, and the 10 years before that in county government and the savings and loan industry. I would never have been able to predict that my professional life would take this course when I graduated from U.C. Davis all those years ago. Who could have guessed that a psychology major who had never taken a single class in IT or computer science would make his living this way? It now seems clear I will have the pleasure of crossing the finish line of my career with my head held high. I feel such gratitude for all my wonderful colleagues, mentors, and friends in this work over the years. My heart is filled to overflowing with love for my family, friends and loved ones, and especially for my precious partner on this journey, my Sue.    

Monday, March 20, 2017

"You know the sound of two hands clapping; tell me, what is the sound of one hand?" - Hakuin Ekaku.
Ten weeks from today, I will be retired from my full-time career in IT. As I look forward to that day, I find myself increasingly aware of the passing time, and I know that day will be here before I know it. I realized this week that I first began working in IT while I was a student at UC, Davis more than 40 years ago. I worked at the Shields Library doing various tasks that included helping with the work to implement their first computerized library management system from CLSI.

After working for ten years supporting IT for county government and then in a data center supporting savings and loans clients from Connecticut to Hawaii, I’m glad that I returned to working at a university for most of my career. I am also grateful that my work volunteering with SHARE continued when I moved from the private sector to education, and that I had the opportunity to do some of my most satisfying work, and find some of my dearest friends, there. I will retire with just over 28 years of service credit and I know I made the right choice to spend these years serving our students, faculty, staff, and administrators.

I’ve had opportunities over the years to leave the university to work in other enterprises, and I would probably have made more money if I’d taken one of those. I’m glad I chose to stay. It’s been clear to me for many years that there are things much more important than money, and that the most important things aren’t things at all. They are the relationships we share with one another, and ourselves, and the values that form the foundations of these relationships.

I am so very grateful to have spent most of my working life doing work that serves young, and not so young, people as they seek knowledge and experiences to prepare themselves to make a difference in the world we share. I’m glad to have formed strong relationships with my colleagues as we share this work, and endlessly grateful for the deep and lasting friendships that I’ve formed thanks to my career bringing me together with some very wonderful, and special, people. Most of all I am grateful that this work has allowed me to provide for my family while doing work that has made a difference.

In recent years, my days have often been filled with meetings, and I’ve had to learn that this was a significant part of the work I do. To remind myself that, rather than preventing me from doing important work, the meetings were one of the ways we do the important work of sharing our insights with one another and building the relationships that help us do what is right together.

In recent weeks, I find the meetings taking on a new character. I have already had my last meetings with some of the people and groups I work with, and many of the meetings in these next ten weeks will offer me those last opportunities to share in the work we do together. I find myself looking ahead and helping to find the best ways to pass the torch so that the work goes ahead well without me. I also find myself feeling and expressing my gratitude and appreciation.

I have been so fortunate in the people I have had the honor, and pleasure, to work with. In all these years at our university, there have been only a handful of people who I struggled to get along with, or whose motives did not seem to me to serve the best interests of our students and the institution. The number of these people is vanishingly small when compared with the vast, generous, majority who met each day with a genuine desire to make a difference, and to do what is right, for the students we have the privilege of serving. I have served among people of good character, who meet opportunity with energy and creativity, adversity with courage and determination, and each other with compassion and goodwill.

The Zen master Hakuin Ekaku, who created the koan I quote at the beginning of this essay, believed his question was effective in generating the great doubt necessary to those seeking enlightenment. For me, questions like this one have served for many years to help inspire the doubt that I have arrived at a final answer. To keep my mind, and heart, open to new insights from myself and others. Recently, I have found my own answer to this inherently unanswerable question. It is an answer, and not the answer, and I remain open to the great doubt and to new awareness.

The answer I have found reminds me that our separateness is an illusion. That the positions we take, and argue for, can appear to separate us while an open, and shared, exploration of the questions behind these positions can actually serve to bring us more clearly together in service of a stronger common understanding. That when we appear to be at odds with one another, we are facing an opportunity to grow in our understanding of each other and how we can best engage in the work ahead of us.

As I look forward to retirement, I know that it is people and our relationships that I will miss the most. I know that I will look back on what we have shared with a fond respect and admiration for my colleagues. That I will take steps to help find the next form of these relationships as my own journey continues in a new way. That I will rededicate myself to giving openly and fully in my relationships with my loved ones. I will be reminding myself that our separateness is an illusion and that the moments we share continue to enrich our lives always.

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

Monday, March 13, 2017

“I’m not a basketball player. I am a man who plays basketball.” - William Felton Russell
Today, I find myself thinking about a conversation I had with one of our Dean’s a few weeks ago. Maybe this is because I’ve been thinking about basketball this morning! You see, one of my best friends spent this weekend in Halifax, Nova Scotia enjoying the U Sports Men's Basketball Final 8 Championship games there. When I start thinking about basketball, it’s not long before I think of Bill Russell. I remember watching him play on television when I was a boy and he’s long been a role model for me of the relationship between what we do, and who we are.

During that conversation with the Dean, who has been a wonderful colleague and friend of mine for years, I had another opportunity to mention this wonderful man and what I learned from his example. For the rest of my life, when I hear the phrase, "the role of the academic" I know I will find myself thinking of that conversation. The Dean was congratulating me on my planned retirement and commented that she can't imagine retiring as she is so passionately engaged not only in scholarship in the social sciences, but especially in speaking and working in our local community. I know from my own experience with her that she is simply sharing her genuine love for her field, and the people of the Central Valley, when she says this.

She embodies the passionate desire to know, and to share, that justifies the hard work and sacrifice required to engage in scholarship in the most meaningful way. I am glad that I have seen this kind of passionate engagement many times before. When I think of “the role of the academic”, I think of many colleagues, and many of my own teachers, who provide wonderful examples of what it means to be a scholar in the best sense of that word. I always think of my father-in-law, with great respect and gratitude, who, by sharing his passion and enthusiasm for his field, helped fan the spark of curiosity for so many students into a fire that has lit and warmed their lives and the world around them.

As the Dean and I talked about retirement, I contrasted her relationship to her work with mine. My passion has been to provide for my family while doing something useful that made a difference. Ultimately, I have tried to do what is right, with love. Still, my passion is not for the work itself. I shared with her the story of Bill Russell who, when asked "Are you a basketball player?" says, "That’s what I do, that’s not what I am. I'm not a basketball player. I am a man who plays basketball." It was a new story to her, and, as soon as she heard me tell it, she seemed to relax and to understand that I would be just fine in retirement.

With her own deep satisfaction in the work she is engaged in, she had been a bit concerned that I might find life less satisfying in retirement. As we talked, she asked about what I planned to do and became even more relaxed, and animated, as I described the many interests I am looking forward to pursuing more richly once I am retired. She smiled and said, “I think you’ll be just fine!”

As we talked, I found myself thinking that how we describe and define ourselves, especially to ourselves, is very important. Whether we actively work to explore and choose these definitions, or find that they seem self-evident for us, the stories we tell about our purpose and priorities play a vital role in defining who we are. The stories of the Dean’s inspiring journey to become herself, and of my own more modest journey of self discovery, are central to our senses of self and inform the choices we make about how we spend our time and energy in life.

I admire her passion for her work and I am comfortable to do my own work out of a passion for my family, and a desire to make some meaningful difference. I think there may be some middle ground, especially here in our world of academics, between a person like her who works in her passion, and one like me who has little passion for the work itself, and yet finds satisfaction in the contributions he can make to the mission of the university. A place where we see one another in the light of our shared purpose.

A place where academics could both be warmed by the fire of their desire to know, and warm others by sharing what they have learned in a welcoming way that breaks down the illusion of an elite. Where non-academics can bring their best to advancing our shared mission of teaching, learning, scholarship, and community engagement in way that demonstrates their genuine desire to be full partners in this work. Perhaps she and I have begun to share that middle ground already.

We all make choices, and compromises, as we define ourselves and pursue our lives. Where our choices are aligned with our values and beliefs, with our mission and purpose, we are most likely to feel harmony between our actions and our sense of self. Even the most difficult choices, the most challenging obstacles, and the most demanding tasks can be deeply rewarding. We can stretch to work far beyond our comfort zones while remaining true to who we are. We can take our rest, and recover from our labor, satisfied that we have acted in good conscience to do what is right. I have experienced this in my own life and I know that being conscious that who I am is not defined by what I do has been critically important to my ability to make good choices.

This is the third time I’ve used this story about Bill Russell in these essays. I know I’ll tell his story many more times in my life, when I want to help make the point about the difference between who we are and what we do, and I’ll always be grateful to him for his shining example of how understanding this distinction can help us add meaning to our lives. In February 2011, President Barack Obama awarded Bill Russell the Presidential Medal of Freedom and cited him as "someone who stood up for the rights and dignity of all men". I think his own understanding of what it means to be a man with dignity, and love, will always be an inspiration to me.

Now, I find myself looking forward to retirement and thinking of my best friend sharing his joy in retirement with the family and friends he loves, and often immersed in the world of Canadian university basketball that he finds so satisfying. I’ve known this good man for many years, watching with admiration as he pursued his work with integrity and energy, seeing him face adversity with courage, and feeling my heart fill with gladness as he met the best of times with grace and gratitude. I’m glad I had the good fortune to work alongside him in our days at SHARE and happy we continue to share the friendship that grew there.

I watch him enjoying the new adventure of his retirement in the same way. True to his values and to who he is. Giving to his family and community. Finding joy in those things that mean the most to him. If I am fortunate enough to leave the world of work in a way that earns me the good will of my colleagues, and adventure on into retirement as my dear friend has, sharing the love of my family and friends, giving back to my community, and exploring those things that bring me joy, I will be satisfied indeed.

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

Monday, March 6, 2017

"Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.” - Anais Nin
Today, I find myself thinking about dreams and realities. I have often been described as a dreamer, and there is a great deal of truth in that description. I am an optimist. I can be unrealistic, and I work to temper my dreams with some realistic pragmatism. While my dreams of what could be remain one of the driving forces in my life, I have also learned to take real joy in the sweet, satisfying, and sometimes surprising, reality I am fortunate to live. This dance between dreams and reality continues to chart my course into the future.

Like many other boys of my generation, I dreamt of being an astronaut, or a rock star. I also dreamt of becoming a naturalist, or a botanist like Luther Burbank. I spent my time singing, and writing songs. Watching launches and broadcasts from outerspace. Exploring the backyards of the neighborhoods we lived in, and the nearby streams and fields. I loved going to the museums in Chicago, and especially reading. I read science, and science fiction, biography, history, classics, animal stories, juvenile fiction, and amazing books like “The Lord of the Rings”. I read and wrote poetry.

My mother used to say that as a boy I seemed to have a new idea of what I wanted to be every week. I was interested in almost everything and kept trying on new dreams for my future. While I always wanted to marry and have a family, most of the things that attracted me as a boy were more individual or solitary in nature. I was one of those kids whose parents had to get him to put down his book and shoo him out of the house! Never much for team sports, I was happiest alone or with a few close friends. We also moved a lot and I think now that I found dreams of my own something that I could carry with me wherever I went.

Through all my changes in aspirations, places and people, the dream that kept calling was of a life in music. I imagined myself making a life, and a living, signing for and with people, and making a difference by playing benefits and championing causes as some of my musical heroes did. I enjoyed singing in various choirs from grade school through high school, and particularly enjoyed my days singing in the madrigal group at my high school. I took a few guitar lessons as a 12-year-old and that began a wonderful lifelong enjoyment of playing and singing with and for friends and family.

I seriously considered a life in music, but ultimately chose to make music a joyful avocation and to take the time-honored advice “Don’t quit your day job!” I chose to follow a dream that called to my heart even more than music did by looking for a life partner, falling in love, and having a family. I’ve never regretted that choice and my life has be rich, and filled with love thanks to my lovely wife and our two wonderful sons. They make my heart sing.

My pursuit of dreams has also been one of the major sources of worry for me. I can feel a great responsibility to make the dreams I’ve shared with my loved ones come true. I have worked hard to give them what it felt I had promised, and most of my worries have focused on the possibility of letting them down. I am realizing as I continue to grow that some of those things I promised have been dreams of mine that they never asked me to make real for them. I am working to hold myself responsible in a new way for whether I choose to make these dreams real or not. I am remembering that these are my dreams and being careful not to feel it is my loved ones I have failed should I not realize the dream, and maybe not even myself.

One of the most amazing surprises in my life is all I gained by not having certain of my dreams come true. By not having some heartfelt wish granted. I never became a rock star, or a full-time musician. I never worked in the field I studied for at university. My first marriage failed and I only really found my way home to my dream of love and family the second time around. If my earlier dreams had come true, I would not have found my way to the love that changed my life. If I had not taken a job in IT as a better way to pay the bills, I would have missed the opportunity to work with wonderful colleagues at SHARE and at my university. If not for this career choice, and the support of my wonderful Sue, I would not have served on the SHARE Board of Directors and found some of our very dearest friends. In my head, I can hear Garth Brooks singing “Unanswered Prayers” as I write these words, and the song rings true for me.

I’ve even learned my own answer to Kahlil Gibran’s challenge that tells us that, if we cannot work in our passion, we’d as well take alms from those who do. I’ve learned that, for me, the work itself need not be my passion when those I am truly working for, these special ones I love, are my greatest passion of all. While I have worked hard and dealt with long hours and stressful times, my work has allowed us to share our lives together. It has been worth every effort. I’ve learned that hard work in service of love is deeply rewarding. Even occasionally working at some unpleasant tasks, and with some few pretty unpleasant people, has been worth the opportunity to live this wonderful life. Gibran wrote that “work is love made visible” and I know this is true.

As it turns out, even as my great dream of love and family came true, I’ve still had a life in music. It has been a wonderful avocation for me and has enriched the life I share with my loved ones. I have played in bands and for benefits, sung with and for people, made music, and made a difference, just as I dreamed I would, on a somewhat smaller scale. As I write and sing songs of my own, I share what is in my heart. My writing comes from a place informed by lessons I would not have learned had my first, apparently simple, dreams come true. I probably would have had to learn hard lessons even if they had… not all bands get along as I know from my early experience!

My dreams of a life close to science and literature have come true as well. I married a botanist’s daughter and we have had so many wonderful adventures chasing wildflowers up the mountains here at home, and visiting botanical gardens together and with friends. I have spent most of my career working with and around academics and their students. Serving them and becoming true colleagues, and friends, with many at the university has been deeply satisfying. My lifelong passion for reading continues, and I am enjoying sharing books with friends and loved ones. Thanks to all my dear ones, friends, and colleagues, I have continuing opportunities to learn and grown.

I will always be a dreamer and I hope that many of my dreams for retirement come true. I also hope that I will have the grace and patience to learn the lessons waiting for me when my wishes are not granted, or come true differently than I’d imagined. As I look forward to retirement, I am prepared to learn, grow and dream as I share this next real adventure with those I love.

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

Monday, February 27, 2017

“Don't simply retire from something; have something to retire to.” - Harry Emerson Fosdick
I’ve begun talking to some retired people I especially trust about retirement. In the process, I’m learning some interesting and useful things, and I plan to do more of this over the next few months as part of my preparing for this change in my life. Today, I’ll share some of what I’ve learned so far in talking with my wonderful wife, Sue, two of our dearest friends, and a colleague from my university. This is a longer essay than many I’ve written, because I am learning so much that is useful! I’ll probably return to this topic again once I’ve had the chance to talk with more of my retired friends and colleagues.

I’ve approached my planning for retirement in what I hope is a thoughtful way. While I can be spontaneous, I do approach important decisions with a certain amount of study and structure. Before I began talking with people about their experiences in retirement, I thought about the questions I wanted to ask them. I prepared a list of these and I’ve used that to guide my interviews with them. I also make sure to encourage the people I’m talking with to share things I haven’t thought to ask about, and specifically ask if there are questions I should have asked, but didn’t, or other things they’d like to tell me.

So far, I’ve mostly talked with my loved ones. In addition to the interviews I’ve done so far, I’ve also had some very helpful conversations with my sister and her husband and I look forward to talking more with family, friends and colleagues. Everyone has been very kind, helpful and generous with their time. I’ve received quite a lot of reassurance, and encouragement, including some comments that they are confident my care in preparing will help me as I retire. One specifically advised me to take time to think about what is coming up and what I might want to do. Everyone has told me to be prepared for some surprises or adjustments, but also assured me they think I’ll be able to handle these.

Some of what I’ve learned from my conversations has verified my existing expectations about what I will need to do, or will experience, in retirement. It will take me awhile to get used to the idea of being relaxed. I’ll need to learn to say “no”, always a challenge for me, and to not let other people schedule me, because they will expect me to have time for things. I’ll need to make an effort to get the exercise and physical activity I want and need, and getting outside for a while every day, even to talk a walk, will be very helpful. I’ll find that I don’t have all the time in the world to do everything, that I will still have to choose, and make peace with these choices. I’ll need to remember that time together, and time alone and apart, are both important. This may take some getting used to, and I’ll be remembering the wise words of Kahlil Gibran to “Let there be spaces in your togetherness.”

Other things I’ve heard in our talks weren’t as obvious, but immediately made sense to me. I heard advice not to really schedule anything except maybe vacation for the first 6 weeks to 6 months of retirement. To let myself have some down time, and maybe even get a little bored,  first. More than one friend suggested that I start some things understanding that I may not continue them all, and to choose some things to get into a non-work mode. I was advised to remember the times we’ve said “We’re going to do this later”, and to remember that it’s later now, and time do these! With regard to volunteering, I’m advised to remember to do things on a trial basis first, maybe volunteer for a couple things just a little, be prepared to “dabble”, and not make big new time commitments right away.

Many people commented that I may find that I let some things take more time than I used to, that everything slows down a bit and things “spread out”, and that I may choose to schedule just one thing to do outside the house on any given day. They also suggested that I might think retirement is more social than it really is, and that I’ll have to work at the social aspect. I’ve heard that staying healthy physically and emotionally go together and this really makes sense to me. When I’m in good shape physically, it’s much easier to be emotionally well. Everyone agreed that travel is wonderful and most suggested that, while we’ll have the time, money will likely be the limiting factor. Taking more little day trips together will be much easier now, and we can have a lot of fun for little or no expense.

One friend made a point of telling me not to wait ‘til we are 70 or 80 to go places and this agrees with good advice from my wife’s parents and others over the years. Another friend who has spent substantial time with our elders observes that those older people who’d traveled most, and have stayed most engaged in learning and social life, are the ones who are doing the best as they age. I also very much appreciated the suggestion that it will be helpful to be aware of my spouse’s work rhythms, as will discovering my own and helping my spouse understand those. That it is wise to be careful about making  time and activity commitments without discussing it with my partner, to “be patient with each other”, and remember that my spouse will need time to adjust, too. More than one of my loved ones reminded me to do some things to get out of the house and away from everybody at times. Partly for me and partly for them!

One of the most interesting thing about these conversations I’ve been having is the ideas and suggestions that surprised me. Some were obvious once I heard them, like “If you find that you are not getting enough time to do an activity you want to do, then schedule it”. I’m told that, if I’m not getting enough time for something I want, I can claim time for that. I’ve been encouraged to remember that this is the time to try things in my life, and reminded that I can tend to commit to things and stay committed beyond the point that is useful for me. One loved one said I should be prepared to make choices between fun things, and to pick something and give myself permission to stop doing something else. I was surprised by the idea that not making these choices, so I can remain free to seize the moment, might actually cause me to lose some time I could be spending on fun and rewarding things.

While I understand that it will be important not to get too caught up in what other people want, I do have trouble saying “no”. One of my loved ones suggested I remember I can always say, “Can I get back to you about that?” or “Let me think about that”, as way of gently giving myself time to make choices that are good for me. Another reminded me that retirement doesn’t mean I won’t work hard at times and that it’s OK to work hard at the things I love. They also shared that when they were working the one thing they would have asked for is free time. Now it’s meaningful time. It is important to find someway to be of value to others, and to find satisfaction in serving and receiving acknowledgement from them. I was also advised to watch out for trying to take over things my spouse wants to do. There are likely some she’ll be glad to have me take over, but others that are “hers” that she’ll want to keep. It was an eye-opener for me to hear that sometimes as a spouse the harder you try to help the worse it can get. This is really good advice for me and not just for retirement. Sometimes what is needed is time, space, and letting go. Patience and communication will always be helpful.

It was enlightening to have one of those closest to me tell me that they think I can be afraid to be comfortable with myself. They were right to observe that I am always trying to improve and yet I talk about wanting to simply “Be”. Retirement may give me time to let go, relax, just be, and see what happens. This may take some discipline for me. I appreciated the suggestion that I think about what my “default activity” will be in retirement. After working 40 hours a week for about 40 years, what will I do when there’s nothing I need to do? I was advised to check in every couple months to see whether I am I doing what I want to do and ask “Does this match my needs?” I’m allowed to stop what doesn’t work, and give more time to what I want. I was surprised and delighted to hear a respected friend say, “You’re more tired than you think you are, and won’t really realize that until you are really retired.”

When I asked people what they liked most, and least, about retirement, I found their answers very helpful, and thought-provoking. I heard that they liked having choices and getting to choose, not working and having the work pressures, the freedom to schedule their own time and to say, “Hey, let’s go do…” whatever they want. I heard that some didn’t much like the other side of choosing, where we have to choose and take responsibility for the consequences of our choices, the isolation that can be part of retirement, and occasional boredom. I heard comments that travel helps, and that you do still have to get motivated to do things.

I so appreciate the time my friends and loved ones are giving me in this process of preparing for retirement. I think that this is helping me. At the same time, it feels a lot like reading about the history, customs, and culture of a foreign land where I will be immigrating soon. I realize, and some of those I’ve talked with agree, that I won’t really know what it is like to live in retirement until I arrive there. Hopefully, my preparations and planning will have helped get me ready for the changes, and surprises, I am bound to find there. I was glad to have one of my loved ones advise me to try to relax about this. They tell me it will come, happen, and have its own rhythm. That’s comforting and I’m glad to say that, while I am nervous and excited about retirement, my nervousness is remaining steady as my excitement increases.

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

Monday, February 20, 2017

“I leave you, hoping that the lamp of liberty will burn in your bosoms until there shall no longer be a doubt that all men are created free and equal.” - Abraham Lincoln, July 10, 1858 Speech at Chicago, Illinois
As this President’s Day holiday is not one of my last 100 Monday’s, I’ll share just a few thoughts, and quotes from some of the great men who have served our country in this role. I look forward to the day when women will have also served as President and I believe we benefit from having their leadership and perspectives in senior roles in government, education, and business.


The courage and integrity required to serve effectively as president, or in government in general has been an inspiration to me during my life and career. Watching our leaders face difficult choices, criticism, and crisis with courage, intelligence, humility, and wisdom has provided many great lessons for me.


As I think of my own life mission, to do what is right with love, I realize that the leaders I most admire approach their own work guided by similar values. They seek to do what is right even when it is very difficult. They have a strong ethical foundation and moral compass. While I would never compare myself to men who have faced the immense challenge of the presidency, I do admire the best of our presidents and learn from their examples.


I've enjoyed reading the biographies, speeches and letters of many of these great men. There is so much to learn from their experience, thoughts, and struggle. I particularly enjoyed John Kennedy’s “Profiles in Courage” with its examples of leaders who stood up for what was right even at great personal cost.


Here are some of my favorite quotes from a few of our greatest presidents. From my childhood heroes, Lincoln and Kennedy, to founding fathers, Washington and Jefferson. From others rated among the greatest by historians such as Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt, Truman and Eisenhower, to two of the presidents I am most proud to have voted for, Carter and Obama. I particularly admire what many of them did to pursue equal justice for all.


“I have here stated my purpose according to my view of official duty; and I intend no modification of my oft-expressed personal wish that all men everywhere could be free.” - Abraham Lincoln


"Tolerance implies no lack of commitment to one's own beliefs. Rather it condemns the oppression or persecution of others.” - John F. Kennedy.


“for if Men are to be precluded from offering their sentiments on a matter, which may involve the most serious and alarming consequences, that can invite the consideration of Mankind; reason is of no use to us—the freedom of Speech may be taken away—and, dumb & silent we may be led, like sheep, to the Slaughter.” -George Washington


“The spirit of resistance to government is so valuable on certain occasions that I wish it to be always kept alive.” - Thomas Jefferson


"The farther one gets into the wilderness, the greater is the attraction of its lonely freedom." - Theodore Roosevelt


“Human kindness has never weakened the stamina or softened the fiber of a free people. A nation does not have to be cruel to be tough.” - Franklin D. Roosevelt


“When even one American - who has done nothing wrong - is forced by fear to shut his mind and close his mouth - then all Americans are in peril” - Harry Truman


“Don't join the book burners. Do not think you are going to conceal thoughts by concealing evidence that they ever existed.” - Dwight Eisenhower


“America did not invent human rights. In a very real sense human rights invented America.” - Jimmy Carter

“We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope. But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.” - Barack Obama

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