Recently I had the honour of meeting Stephen Marsden while we were visiting Hannah in North Wales. Quickly it seemed we were on the same wave length in a number of different ways, although Stephen is a few steps ahead of me in terms of retirement. He has written the article ‘Not retiring, more like rewiring’ and kindly agreed to allow me to post it here on my blog.
Not retiring, more like rewiring
“Retirement? Oh, do we really have to talk about it? Feeling sidelined, over the hill, put out to grass? And heading one way only – God’s waiting room! No, perish the idea – I’ll just have to deal with it when it comes…”
What memory I have of thinking about retirement in my early years of working could well have been pretty close to these thoughts. Subconsciously, I may have even associated it with death itself – something I supposed would eventually happen, but I would do my utmost to push to the back of my horizons.
I suspect many of us feel something similar, not just when we are young but well into the life we think will go on being ours until, well, who knows? In my case, certainly, the desire to shut out any thoughts of being ‘old’ came from the wonderful but under-appreciated spirit of youth, perfectly expressed then and for generations since by Pete Townshend’s immortal lyric, ‘Hope I die before I get old’.
But having now arrived at that infamous stage, I am happy to report that my thoughts have changed completely. For a start, there is no getting round having to deal with reality, and the more positive we are, the better it will be for everyone – not just ourselves but also the family we hope will look out for us.
This may be something we are called to do ourselves, before or after starting our own retirement. But having to help care for a relative, often a parent, and manage their affairs can actually be for our own good as well.
We can then get to see how they themselves took to retirement, maybe learn some lessons from them. And we can also see where they failed to do themselves any favours or make the most of their opportunities.
Even with this experience myself, dealing with the prospect of actual retirement only started to kick in about five years before the momentous date. Even then, before it began to really matter, I was certainly in no mood to take too much interest in what advice and experience the likes of Saga magazine or other ‘senior’ type media might have to offer.
(Receiving Saga was all my wife’s doing, I say rather churlishly, as it does often make very good reading for those of us of a certain age.)
For all my or your resistance, there is no denying the huge benefit of thinking through your retirement in advance. If we want the best sort of retirement for us, we really need to plan towards it, and take the steps to make it happen. Otherwise, retirement just arrives and we take what it brings, conceivably just a reduced amount of what we had going for us before.
One of the great advantages as I approached retirement was that I was now self-employed, ultimately trading full-time work for more freedom to do other things – while still of course earning enough for my wife and I to live on.
We both knew we wanted to move, to be somewhere we loved, to do things we knew we would enjoy, and to start and develop a new life with enough purpose to feel as fulfilled as we needed. That, in short, was the plan, and once we had agreed when and where it would be, the rest was all about dealing with the practicalities of the move.
If you retire to somewhere different, and downsize as we did, you may well find yourself doing more planning and more deciding on your priorities than you have ever done (or needed to) before. And even if you do not move, it can be an ideal time to take a new grip on your life and make it as much you would want as possible.
Over the years, most of us accumulate so much stuff that it can be frightening to check how much of it we actually use. Unless something is still really important to you, something you love and value and will still want in retirement, it is not just practical but cleansing to let them go – to sell, give away, take to the charity shop, or failing all that, chuck away. Make room in your head and your home for the things you are going to do.
It may be hard – I know selling all those hundreds of classic LPs was. But (a) I had not played them for years, (b) our new house did not have the space, (c) it brought in a fair bit of money, and (d) all the ones I would still listen to were all in our CD collection. Ultimately, finding room for the guitar and bike mattered so much more.
As I said before, the last thing I felt like reading was articles about retirement – maybe a bit like this one! But I was not unprepared – my wife and I did both think and talk about it a lot. Nearly two years on, we are still enjoying it immensely – we both say it has been one of the best times of our lives.
Far be it from me to suggest how you spend your own retirement, that pleasure (as I sincerely hope) is all yours. But maybe, just maybe, you may find similarities with some of what we have done and most enjoy:
- If you have a partner, keep the relationship strong and enjoy a lot together
- Keep up with old friends and family, have them round and to stay (plus vice versa)
- Make new friends – maybe through social activities and interest groups
- Do those things you really fancied but said you had no time for – writing, music, whatever
- Enjoy but also challenge yourself – keep the mind active with at least one new skill or subject
- Appreciate and integrate with where you live – such as local language, history or wildlife groups
- Volunteer for/get involved in charitable or community events and services
- Get and stay fit – feel better and keep ageing at bay (e.g. yoga, swimming, sport, walking, etc.)
- Have fun socially – maybe join a choir, dancing class, over 50s social group, etc.
Don’t let losing the routine and purpose that filled your days feel like the end of things. Not only is retirement the start of the rest of your life, but potentially, the kind of life you hardly knew was possible.
Above article published with the kind permission of Stephen Marsden.