Success in redrawing life demands a paradigm shift.

Our paradigms are the sets of beliefs in which we are invested; we shift those only when experience or compelling evidence invites us to take a second look and then revise our beliefs. Retirement demands such a critical shift, especially as we consider our worth.

In our careers, we built a paradigm of value.  We projected an image to others based upon our success in our profession, but our most important and appreciative audience was ourselves.  It was easy to tie our validation to our jobs.  If we received honors and praise for our work, if we held a position that made us important to others, if we had a good income, we felt worthy.

Our paradigms are the sets of beliefs in which we are invested; we shift those only when experience or compelling evidence invites us to take a second look and then revise our beliefs. Retirement demands such a critical shift, especially as we consider our worth.

In our careers, we built a paradigm of value.  We projected an image to others based upon our success in our profession, but our most important and appreciative audience was ourselves.  It was easy to tie our validation to our jobs.  If we received honors and praise for our work, if we held a position that made us important to others, if we had a good income, we felt worthy.

In retirement, I have found that those measures of value have dissipated.  I at first continued to enjoy the praise of my former colleagues, allowed my ego to be filled when they expressed some dissatisfaction with the man who had replaced me, expected their faces to light up when I came by for a visit, expected to be at the top of the list if someone needed a person to fill a part-time or volunteer slot.

But gradually, their interest in keeping me close waned.  They adjusted to their new boss and found much about him to admire.  They didn’t seek me out for lunches or happy hours.  They emailed rarely.  They didn’t ask my advice. 

And so, I began to feel less valuable.  I no longer had the position, the salary, or the opportunities for praise.  I was on my own, just me, a retiree who had left the profession and who had been replaced by others.

We have all heard stories of people who retire and die shortly after.  What a strange idea, that our physical body is simply skin hung on the bones of feeling valuable. 

At first, I filled the void with part-time jobs.  I received an admittedly small paycheck, but I seized on it as evidence that I was still employable.  But then, those jobs ended, and I had to find  other ways to spend my time.  I admired friends who had gone into other work after leaving their careers, while the activities that filled my days seemed less important because I was not paid for them.  I had bought into the belief that a person’s worth is established by a person’s employment. 

A basic element of living a good retirement — indeed, of living a good life — is a sense of self-respect and a conviction that what I do and who I am matters.  The desire to be productive is good, even critical, if we are to have a retirement life that brings satisfaction.  But if we retirees judge ourselves based only on the activities for which we are paid, we may find our self-respect diminished, even if we actually have enough money to live well.

What is needed is a change of attitude, not a change of income.

Since retirement, I have found opportunities to teach part-time.  Two of the jobs paid a small salary; the third was unpaid.  Looking at these opportunities objectively, I can see that the pleasure I derived from them came from the interactions with the students (both adolescents and adults), from the creativity involved in planning and delivering lessons, from the sense that I was having an impact.  I was happy to receive a check, but, in the end, it was not the money that made the time spent worthwhile.

  1. Am I furthering a cause in which I believe?
  2. Am I having a positive impact on others?
  3. Am I expanding my own knowledge and experience?
  4. Am I producing something new?
  5. Does time fly by unnoticed while I am involved in this activity?
  6. At the end of the time spent on this activity, am I energized and optimistic? Do I look forward to returning to this activity tomorrow?

Notice the one question that is missing:  How much was I paid?

If these conclusions are true, then I am liberated from believing that I am only worth what I can earn.  Instead, I realize that my worth is measured by what I can learn and by what I can contribute.

8/28/2014