Greetings from the other side!
I've now been officially retired for six months, and my husband for eight. In that time, we have moved across the country, set up housekeeping in a house we had owned for nine years but until October had never occupied, and are re-establishing roots in our community.
So what's it like? Everyone asks. Like any other of life's hallmarks (wondering what it's like to be 13, 18, 21, to go to college, to get married, to turn 50) there's a lot of speculation about what it feels like to retire and whether or not the decision was worth it. Is it really the long-awaited dessert? Is it one unending stretch of coffee on the porch swing by morning and chilled Pinto Grigio on the sofa by evening?
Naturally, each person's version will be different. The following is one person's version. Well, one and a half as I will include my husband here and there.
As my uncle used to say: take as given.
Nine Ways My Life Has Changed Since Retiring
1. My garage now smells like hazelnuts
Being my own boss is not as easy as it sounds. Like planning a balanced meal, I strive everyday to have a bit of fun, get some exercise, work towards a larger goal, and take care of a chore. "Strive" is the operative word here as there certainly are days with no fun, no exercise, no completed chores, and/or no work towards goals. Instead, my schedule can magically fill itself with hours of watching the Olympics (both the morning and evening broadcasts), taking the cats to the vet, assembling our wedding photo album before our 23rd anniversary, and brewing and drinking far too many pots of tea - that sort of thing. For someone whose dedication to the to-do list touches on religious zealotry, at first it was hard to dial down my high-revving idle and simply do less. "Being productive" has been recalibrated to completing fewer things per day, and one of those things just might be making the bed (counts as a "chore"!). If you're a person who gains great satisfaction in doing things and great guilt in ignoring things, you will probably need to find a way to structure your time to appease both masters.
My main things now are: writing, photography, house stuff, volunteering, reconnecting with old friends, and getting out for walks. I joined a writing group that meets three times a week at a really cool cafe along the waterfront and the local library. We serve dinners from the Community Kitchen at a local church, and I'm keeping my Consular Officer brain happy by evaluating foreign exchange student applications. The cats' nails are kept in ship-shape and I'm diligent about at least 20 minutes of yoga before breakfast, which can sometimes be at 9:30 - and that's okay.
But let's get to the hazelnuts. My husband has thrown himself into home repair/improvement to undo nine years of renters leaving their marks. Thanks to him, we now have a spiffy new exhaust hood over the stove that actually vents to the OUTSIDE and not directly to the bedroom (the fact that the tenants never complained about this makes me seriously question their standards). He graded and graveled a path alongside the house, and installed a fan to blow lovely hot air from the gas fireplace into the living room. He also bought two 50-gallon plastic barrels from a guy on Craig's List. My first reaction when he brought them home was, "People still use Craig's List?" and the second was, "Wow - the garage smells AWESOME!" because the heavy blue plastic barrels had previously contained hazelnut syrup, the kind used to make your coffee yummy. It is doing the same for our garage, our car, and maybe the rain water we'll use to care for our plants this summer.
2. Catching up on sleep
Before retirement, I was certain that for the rest of my days I would be waking up by 6:30 am each morning and hitting the hay by 9:30 pm. That habit was the first to go, egged on by a Pacific Northwest winter where it was dark from 4:30 pm until 8:30 am. Now I stretch in bed, rub my eyes, and consider what the day will bring about 7:30 am as the first morning rays are peeking around the bedroom curtains. The cats are (getting) used to eating breakfast at 8:15 am, instead of 6:30. At the end of the day, I'm putting aside my book and turning off the beside light about 11:00 pm. No guilt at all.
But here's the big plus: I sleep much better now because my brain is at rest. It sent packing the night shift brain that was hired to revise every conversation, rewrite every email, review everything to be done tomorrow, and reevaluate all I had done today. That job is now vacant. Gone. Sometimes - not often, but sometimes - I sleep the whole night through. Yes, really. Okay, you're right; night shift brain returns now and again, but it's definitely not earning overtime or benefits.
3. Gone is the cage, but so is the gild
After having a steady income (read: reliable, I didn't say exuberant) my entire adult life, money is now a fixed commodity with only a trickling replacement stream. Seeing one's bank and retirement accounts as ponds whose wellsprings have dried up takes a lot of adjusting. Bottom line, spending and saving are quite a preoccupation. Soon enough I will be eyeing the sacred retirement accounts like the fattened goose in mid-November.
The question, "Do you offer senior discounts?" has been uttered more often and with far more ease than I would've anticipated. As I retired relatively early (under age 60), asking this question can make me look like a cheapskate and I'm sure I've heard a silent "Why aren't you at work, lady?" from the Denny's hostess at 10:00 am on a Wednesday.
But honestly, we're not out traveling with abandon like every commercial involving the "golden years" promises. We have one car, use coupons, cook 95 percent of our meals, and my husband set the daytime winter thermostat to a brisk 65 degrees (it's set to like 45 degrees at night; the cats are not amused). We have planned ONE big trip this year and used nearly all our frequent flier miles to get there. Given the cost of hotels, I'm not sure where we'll stay; my husband helpfully suggested, "In the rental car."
4. If this is Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... this must be Snohomish
Is it Thursday or Saturday? Indeed my sense of time has become as foggy as a Northwest morning. I mark time not so much by the hour as by the week. "I'll get to it later" isn't such a bad thing as "later" doesn't have to wait until the weekend as it did when we were working, but could be tomorrow, or the day after, or Wednesday at 10:00 am. When making appointments (doctor, dentist, chiropractor, massage - retirement is not for the young), I find myself responding, "Oh, whenever is easy for you" when the receptionist asks when I can come in, which feels ridiculously luxurious. Even jury duty now sounds interesting. But again, there's the little niggling fear of not wasting these precious days, which brings me back to the to-do list. I still keep one so I can have the pleasure of crossing things off it (in red).
5. Friendships: The good, the bad, and the how do we do this?
Besides the money adjustment, the friend situation has been the steepest learning curve. Fortunately, we retired back to where we'd lived for decades prior to joining the Foreign Service. We still have some family here and a few good friends who didn't completely write us off for being gone nearly 15 years. Along with better sleeping, reuniting with old friends has been the change I'm most grateful for. The best part is seeing them again and realizing we still want to hang out and do stuff together. There haven't been any awkward break-ups when you see an old friend after years and realize you're just not that into them anymore.
The tough part is feeling distant from our friends still in the Foreign Service, which happened pretty quickly. I chalk this up to their still working at a ceaseless pace under demoralizing conditions while we just peaced-out. Plus, as a breed, Foreign Service folk are used to reconnecting with good friends after five, seven, nine years and picking up like they'd just had lunch the week before. That is to say, maybe they don't notice we're gone yet? Except that we can't keep up on the various Department systems and I can't just jump into Outlook and see that so-and-so is now in Berlin, or Ulan Bator. I do miss them, though, and have fun reading messages that start with "would you believe...?" and fill me in on all the latest.
More puzzling, however, is how to make new friends - like from scratch. It dawned on me as we drove across the country that we wouldn't have the "just add water" instant community of a new assignment or overseas post. It feels more like dating now, something I haven't done in a quarter century.
"Sooo, would you like to get together at the Open Mic night on Friday?" said awkwardly to the somewhat interesting couple we randomly meet at a protest march, or the senior center, or serving dinners at Community Kitchen. Speaking of which, my husband has been invited to join both Kiwanis and the Lions Club - something I thought he had to be a grandfather to qualify for. Meanwhile, he suggested I join Toastmasters, primarily - I believe - to have someone to talk to/at besides just him. In summary: The new friend thing is a work in progress.
But the cats are liking our increased time at home, that is when they're not sleeping in the closet or under the bed, which we now see is really, really often.
6. Growing roots and routines
We are letting ourselves grow roots back into the damp soil of our adopted home region. After over 14 years in movement, the pleasure of realizing we're home is more comforting than I'd anticipated. It's the smallest details, so easy to take for granted for those who live in one place for any extended time that remind me we're home for reals, and not in another temporary home. Things like hearing the Seattle area weather forecast on the radio as I start my day and recognizing the road name or which rivers are flooding. Or rooting for home teams and watching the game with other fans at the local Applebees. We're paying attention to local politics more, and relish simply saying, "We live in Snohomish" and having people know what that means.
7. Relapses
In the six months since my paychecks disappeared, I've relapsed twice and considered getting a J-O-B. It started innocuously enough, just, you know, seeing what Indeed had to offer. Just in case. I found an opening that touched my former career as a riding instructor and was only a short drive from home. I made it to the final round of interviews before realizing that it was too soon to dive into a new job and the commitment I'd have to make to the students. I withdrew from consideration and offered to volunteer instead - someday. The second time was just a few weeks ago when the price of gas started to climb. Getting nervous about expenses, I saw a part time job at a tropical plant nursey just six minutes' drive from home. Sounds nice, and what's the harm in applying, right? The harm was that they offered me the job and then, while they were at it and given my background, asked "How about assisting the general manager, too?" Before I knew it, I was on the slippery slope to being a professional again. I took a long weekend to think about it, trying on for size the new role and schedule, looking at myself from all angles before deciding if it was a fit. Then I asked myself one simple question: How would I feel if I knew I was going into a new job tomorrow morning? Would I feel excitement and pride to write my schedule on the kitchen calendar? No, I only felt dread. I called the nice folks and declined the offer; the relief was palpable. It's hard to stay the course of work abstinence - but it's worth it.
8. I met the underworld
That sounds a bit infernal. What I mean is that my husband and I are now finding an entire other world out there of retired people that we were barely aware of while shut away in offices all day. Before, I just pictured "retirement" meant old folks and thought, "that's not us!" But now I'm seeing there are a LOT of interesting people who are also free at 10:00 am on Wednesdays! We see each other while identifying ducks in the park, comparing coupons in line at the grocery store, or volunteering, for example, and just saying, "I'm recently retired" has been the easiest ice breaker. I can even say it in Spanish, which has led to exchanging phone numbers with some nice folks. It feels like that first month in college freshman year when simply your status was enough of a commonality to connect with someone. "No kidding? Me too!"
9. Now that I've tasted liberty...
I don't want to go back. One of the main drivers behind my decision to retire was to have time for creative pursuits. Declining that recent job offer underscored the importance of devoting time to things under my own direction and control. I'm starting an Etsy shop. I'm writing more. I take a ton of pictures. We're working our way through a book of local parks and hikes. I do a bit of yoga every morning. I make a second pot of tea at 3:00 pm.
And I'm free any Wednesday at 10:00 am.
Just drop me a line - let's go for a walk or get lunch!
P.S. You may be wondering about the random photographs above. They're just to show that I'm taking a LOT of pictures these days, and really enjoying it.
