I’ve retired. I thought the reality of retiring had sunk in a long time ago, but I'm not sure it has yet. Not that I would change anything, I wouldn't; I'm quite happy not to have to follow someone else’s schedule, and I'm extraordinarily happy to 1) not be defined by a job, 2) have time to do some truly important things.
Like what, you may ask?
I plan to do more reading and some writing; I’ve been noodling some ideas for a mystery series, and might try my hand at some poetry. I’ll be posting here a little more regularly; I’ve set the initial goal of once a week, every Saturday, starting today. Also, I want to venture out to other parts of Colorado and take of pictures of all the beauty in my adopted state, a lot of which I haven’t had time to see yet. There’s a lot of things I want to do, including having a beer now and then and just sitting and watching all the hustle and bustle of the world going on all around me. John Lennon got it right.
That’s the key. Usually, the first thing anyone said to me when I told them of my impending retirement was, "What do you plan to do?" As if I had to do something to be a real person or to be happy. It seemed that many people, when they think of being retired and living a life without the daily busyness would be meaningless, empty. My constant rejoinder, offered with a laugh, soto voce, to cushion the blow as it were, was "As little as freaking possible." They all thought I was joking, I wasn't, I was deadly serious. All the busyness, with little play time, I've put in over the last 40 years wasn't my real life, I think my real life is just now beginning. I don’t think this big change in routine is going to be easy, there’s going to be challenges ahead, it’ll be hard work. But, I think, it’ll be the real work I’ve been itching to do for as long as I’ve been on this earth. I’m ready to get started.