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Key points
- Finding what we love about working is essential to retiring.
- Retiring could be the beginning of doing the work we've always loved, not the end.
- That thing that we don't do well, we shouldn't do it.
I have always imagined my eventual retirement would be something akin to a restaurant’s soft opening: a gentle tryout of things that evolves into a solid plan.
Just when I began thinking of possible first steps in that soft opening, I developed a stress fracture in my left foot and found myself booted and restricted in what I could or should do to heal: an unwelcome bump in my soft retirement plans.
It would seem reasonable, given that most people, including my doctors, think writing is one of those professions that is best done sitting still, that it would be easy to follow the doctor’s orders and enjoy this sequestered time.
However, sitting still is not how I write.
For me, writing requires a considerable amount of thinking time. Coming up with ideas, next sentences, or even how I might like to kill off a character or two is not like following directions for baking a cake. It’s a lot of noodling through a series of mental what-ifs and what’s next, which I do best by ambling about to get my ideas firmly in my mind and my wiggles out. Once that’s accomplished, I can sit down at my desk and pound through some stuff.
The boot makes wandering and getting rid of wiggles off-limits. It also makes weeding in the garden awkward, or just taking a walk around the block when I need some time to think about what I want to write cumbersome at best and probably not at all what the doctor thought she was ordering when she told me to slow down and stay off my foot.
I tried lying on the couch and reading some trashy novels for a few days only to discover that I am worthless at doing nothing.
According to Gabriel Heller Sahlgren, Research Director of the Research Institute of Industrial Economics, in a paper about retirement in the Journal of Health Economics, retirement can have a long-term negative impact on both health and happiness.
But maybe it doesn't have to be that way.
That’s when I found the chair.
It was sitting on the sidewalk with a Free sign taped to it. I parked my car and checked it out.
It was a solid piece of work with no wobbles but in bad need of some sanding and a couple of coats of paint.
Since writing wasn’t going well at that moment, I decided I could change course and try my hand at a little home improvement project: my front porch would benefit from a colorful chair, and I needed something different to do.
The whole project sounded like a sweet afternoon of sitting in my garage being busy and maybe discovering a new way to get some writing inspiration.
Sanding block, paint swatches, and paint brushes in hand, I began.
That easy afternoon project soon turned into one day of scrubbing a century of dirt off the chair. Two days of sanding. Another two days to apply two coats of primer. Two trips to two different paint stores to find the perfect color, and last, but hardly least, two days of painting while fretting that I had picked the wrong color.
By this time, I was too deeply into the project to change course and determined that I was going to finish it no matter what color it was going to be.
Forget the Fat Lady
It was time to listen to the Most Interesting Man in the World.
Remember those marvelous Dos Equis beer commercials and the Most Interesting Man in the World?
About day three of my chair project, I started thinking about my favorite Interesting Man quote about life and success:
You know that thing you don’t do well? (He says, leaning into the camera.) Don’t do it.
The best reason to retire: You can do what you’re good at.
Although the chair turned out okay, it was not inspiring. It failed to be fun after that first coat of primer.
Writing inspires me to look closely at the world. To think about what’s going on, what might happen next, and maybe even what should happen.
I love the process.
Writing is what I do and probably should keep doing as long as it makes me happy.
Retiring should be that special moment in life when you can wake up every morning and do just what makes you happy. If you’re lucky, that happiness might spill over and bring some joy to the people around you.
Fingers crossed, one more week, and I’ll be out of this boot and set free to wander about the world looking for plays to write and short stories to dream.
References
Heller-Sahlgren, G. (2017). Retirement Blues. Journal of Health Economics. Volume 54, July 27, 2017. PMID: 28505541
