Oh fantasy, where would future plans be without you? Many people imagine, fantasize about life after decades of work. They envision lots of play time on beaches, long afternoon naps, endless travel, all kinds of anti-work activities, more of that most precious commodity -- free time. Humans have the capacity to predict (usually based on prior experiences) how something might unfold, how the experience will go for them. It isn't too difficult to predict how one might experience a routine trip to the grocery store or a stop at a gas station. But what about completely new experiences, those without prior experiences attached? For many of us, there are experiences we simply need to live through to figure them out, to process and understand them and to know ourselves in them. The transition to retirement is like that, at least for me.
Prior to taking the gap-year, I read all I could find about gap-year adventures, senior gap-year adventures, retirement, semi-retirement, encore careers, re-imagined careers, passion about careers, life phases, life transitions, round-the-world travel, vangabond senior living, full-time life on the road (in addition to books on the topic I read blogs like Retirement:A Full-Time Job, Satisfying Retirement, Early Retirement Journey and HomeFreeAdventures). In other words, the good researcher and curious part of me did her investigative work. In my active brain and electronically, I explored all sides of the stay or go question, all sides of taking a break, traveling for months at a time, becoming a permanent bum, finding new pursuits. I became a knowledge expert. As best I could, I prepared myself for this significant transition, and mostly my prep work paid off. Traveling for long stretches always comes with complications, some predictable, some not -- delayed flights, torrential rains, sketchy hotel rooms, illness, questionable, sometimes unrecognizable food -- but most of the travel was magical. New experiences each day, lots of adventures, the delicious excitement of the yet to be known. That part of the living through experience has worked.
Moving to a new community and new house has been.......not challenging but different from what I thought it would be. R and I knew retirement, semi-retirement, or whatever I call this next yet-to-be-named phase would be trickier for me than for him. We are different with different needs and wants and expectations. I get that. I did not know that each day, with each experience I would be collecting data on how I want or don't want to live this phase of my life. Apparently, I'm one of the must-live-through-this time-to-know folks.
One of the ways I know that I'm puzzling through an experience is when I don't quite feel like myself. I'm not the Chicagoan anymore but I'm hardly settled in the new life, even though I now possess an Oregon driver's license and my passport sports my new address. I recognize my house as my house but it doesn't yet feel like home. I'm meeting new people but none know me historically, through the experiences that have shaped me into who I am. Over the years I have learned that floating in this state of not-quite-me means I'm in transition and is a necessary, if uncomfortable part of change. Who wants to wake up each morning not-quite feeling like themselves? I'm traveling through this phase with the knowledge that I'm on my way to somewhere new, probably a place unfamiliar to me, a place unlike the fantasy. A place, since I've not lived-through it, I could not quite have predicted. The tremendous upside is that moving into the unknown leaves me open to possibilities.
Last week I read Oliver Sacks' piece in the NY Times "My Own Life: On Learning I Have Terminal Cancer." Not only was I deeply moved by Sacks describing his experiences, I found his thoughts on living till the end wonderful guidelines, perhaps a philosophy for simply living fully, especially when one is in the last quadrant of life. Here are a few of Oliver Sack's thoughts extracted from the article --
"It is up to me now to choose how to live out the months that remain to me."
"I have to live in the richest, deepest, most productive way I can."
"I feel intensely alive, and I want and hope in the time that remains to deepen my friendships, to say farewell to those I love, to write more, to travel if I have the strength, to achieve new levels of understanding and insight."
"I feel a sudden clear focus and perspective."
"There is no time for anything inessential."
"I must focus on myself, my work and my friends."
"I shall no longer look at "NewsHour" every night."
"I shall no longer pay any attention to politics or arguments about global warming.
This is not indifference but detachment -- "
I wonder if Dr. Sacks' response to this phase is different from what he imagined? Mostly, I admire his clarity of thought. To achieve such clarity is my goal.
