A Game of Dominoes

Flipping through radio channels recently, I stopped when I heard the word “retirement,” and then I listened.  The host was referring to a magazine article (although he revealed neither the name of the publication nor the author), discussing the challenges of retirement. 

I was curious to hear the opinion of another person:  what are the obstacles we face? (Of course, I have my own list, which I have shared in other posts). 

Unlike this blog, the radio program is devoted to the financial difficulties in retirement.  But I recognize that these are also emotional, mental and spiritual hurdles and that they can affect the quality of retiree’s lives.

When I thought about this list, I had a realization:  they are interconnected, dominoes leaning on one another.  Feeling helpless about the ability to deal with one leads to helplessness about the others.

The primary domino, the one on which all the others depend, is identity. 

Typically, we identify ourselves to others by naming our professional title:  I am a teacher, a manager, a butcher, a baker, or a candlestick maker.  And so, retiring takes those titles away; without a title, without an identity, our self-confidence can begin to decline.  It is a short jump from those feelings of worthlessness to an inability to deal with the other challenges.

If I believe that I cannot adjust to the new schedule, I will flounder as I attempt to fill my time.  Soon I am unable to deal with isolation, loss of independence, guilt, and missing my profession. 

Believing I am powerless over these challenges can lead to a frustrating and difficult retirement. But the opposite is also true:  finding ways to meet these hurdles ensures productive and fulfilling retired lives.

Each of these requires a choice:  I can choose to feel helpless, or I can choose to embrace the changes or even celebrate the challenges as opportunities. 

Retaining (or reformulating) an identity is primary, made possible by a paradigm shift: I recognize that my identity is not limited to my employment title (which speaks to what I do, not to who I am).  Rather, my beliefs, my core values, my abilities and interests, the basis of who I am, have not changed.  These characteristics, which guided my professional choices, today guide the choices I make as a retiree.  And when I am aware of those and use them in my retirement activities, my self-confidence grows, any residual guilt over my retirement stipend dissolves, and I no longer believe I must have a job to be happy. 

And I can make other choices:  not only am I able to adjust to a new schedule, I can enjoy the new flexibility of a day when I, and not school bells or employer expectation, determine how to spend my time.  And then I can use that time to pursue new skills, learn new lessons, find new ways to serve my communities. 

Isolation is a choice.  Our society abounds in occasions to be with other people:  interest groups, volunteer opportunities, and church fellowships can be confirming and fulfilling.  We can choose to reach out to friends, to arrange time to surround ourselves with others or to simply call a friend and go to lunch.  And in those times when I am alone, I have the company of good books and enthralling projects.

Retirement in itself does not dictate loss of independence.  Although a fixed income may curtail some activities and aging may affect others, I rebel against the idea that, since I am not employed, I must lose my ability to make wise decisions, to be a useful member of my community, to chart and live a plan for each day.  I value the advice of family and friends, but I retain the final say about how I spend my life.  Freed from the constraints of an 8 hour work day, I can be truly independent.

With a change of attitude and a determination to choose wisely, the dominoes right themselves – and can be used to build a life filled with potential.