SWEET NOTHINGS: A RETIREE REFLECTION

by Amy Lawler Holloway

“What do you do all day now that you’re retired?”

My older brother seems anxious for my reply. Although I am the third of four siblings, I am the first to retire. That alone makes me a bit of an anomaly among my career-driven family. My response further cements my reputation as the family eccentric.

“A whole lotta sweet nothings.”

This was not the answer he wanted. But it was what I needed at this stage of my life after having raised two children to independent adults while navigating my own career.

Of course, I recognize that “sweet nothing” is an oxymoron to someone who has built a successful career on planning and managing time, people, and projects. Like my brother, I too once lived by my Outlook calendar. And while I still need to keep up with the occasional doctor appointment, most of my day is now free to explore new interests and to reconnect with people and passions neglected over the years. For others, work is too life-defining to transition fully and suddenly to retirement. I’ve known many retirees who returned to the workforce in some capacity, usually within a year. My brother lasted only two weeks. He simply was not prepared for the time change.

Like my brother, you can fail miserably at retirement while succeeding spectacularly at life. But if you aim for both, you must first accept my retiree theory of relativity.

Time is relative or How I stopped worrying about and learned to love the Void

Time takes on a different dimension when the work week no longer defines your schedule. Downton Abbey fans may recall Maggie Smith’s Dowager quip, “What’s a Weekend?” -- a popular meme among my retired friends. There is a certain luxury to living each day free of work obligations. But I also feel some guilt in becoming a lady of leisure. Shouldn’t I be using this time more productively for the betterment of others? What’s wrong with a little me-time, for a change?

For those of us used to a full calendar, the sudden abundance of free time may be unsettling. Absent a workday schedule, the minutes and hours can drag by. Happy retirees have hobbies to fill the void, whether it’s spending quality time with family, gardening, golfing, travelling, volunteering – whatever brings joy and purpose. By taking advantage of my new-found freedom, I’m learning a new language, spending more time at the gym, lunching with old friends, visiting family across multiple states, and making new connections among the newly retired. Sometimes, “staying busy” means enjoying doing nothing more than simply enjoying the moment. Like my two dogs basking in the sun on our deck, I feel that same glow of contentment during these quiet times. There are infinite possibilities to what comes next: I may choose to write; I may finish the novel I’m reading; I may clean the baseboards, or trim the crepe myrtle. I’ve entered the “no excuses” zone where I have time for all I neglected over the years.

In short, retired life is good. But these sweet nothings do take some initiative. Newton’s law of motion also applies to retirement. On cold mornings, it’s more tempting to settle in and browse my Netflix waitlist than to force myself to get up, get dressed, and get to the gym. I have to make a conscious choice to be actively engaged and refuse to become the clichéd retired couch potato.

I believe the key to a successful retirement lies in how we view our free time - as a gift or a burden. What a happy dilemma! I recognize I am blessed to have this freedom and the financial means to live comfortably on a pension. I am also fortunate to have my husband by my side on this journey. We are content to stay home, but are equally as happy loading the dogs and heading across the country to discover new hunting grounds. To be able to afford not to work for a living frees up the opportunity to work at living.

All this is easier said than done during the cold winter months when I ponder part-time employment. But these musings are short-loved when the sun is shining and the temperatures rise above freezing. Like the seasons, I find myself thawing, feeling new life taking root within me. I’m not entirely sure what will take bloom next, but I can take my sweet time discovering it!