Make It A Snow Day

 Do you remember the unbridled excitement, the pure joy, maybe the feeling of being master of the universe, when mom or dad or Gran said, "No school today. it is a snow day." Suddenly, a huge chunk of unscheduled time opened up before you. The warm bed urged you to curl up and sleep just a bit longer.

I grew up in a cold part of the country. Maybe because snow-clogged streets were the norm after a big storm, days off were not very common, but highly prized. I don't remember we ever did anything special, like sledding down a hill or ice skating on the nearby pond. We just relished the lack of pressure to do much of anything. Dad had to go to work; mom was a teacher so she got the day off, too.

That is the challenge of this post: for today, I'd like you to pick a day in the next week or two, and declare it a snow day, a day when your obligations have been canceled. Even if you grew up in a part of the country where snow was a non-factor, use your imagination. Pretend your school just called your parents and told them you didn't need to come to class today.

Even better, imagine that day was supposed to be a biology test, or math exam, or whatever your least favorite subject was. No more. Your moment of reckoning has been delayed. The anxiety has been replaced with joy.

How will you fill this "bonus" day?  One rule: chores and house cleaning cannot be the only answer. Yes, there are things that must be done, snow or no snow day. 

But, for this experiment, I'd like you to try to envision you are six or nine years old, or maybe a teenager (scary thought!). What would you have done at that age with a full 6 or 8 hours away from school?

Played games, read books, watched a silly or scary movie on TV? Maybe you loved to put together a jigsaw puzzle, use finger paints or watercolors, or take your dog for a long walk,  snow or no snow. 

I have a granddaughter who loves to write Haiku poems. Give her a picture as inspiration and off she goes. The other two love to create something, anything  even dashing off some coding. They would have no trouble filling their day. 

If being a kid again for your "off" day is a bit too restrictive, you are free to choose a more adult version of play: cook something you've always wanted to try. Finally, get started on serious genealogical research. Watch an old, funny Cary Grant movie.  Pull out your canvas and paints and create a masterpiece or something so abstract even you don't know what it represents. Who cares? The goal is to forget your cares for a few hours.

There is something very liberating about grabbing, just for yourself,  a block of time without responsibility and schedules. Who knows. You may discover that your mental, physical, and emotional self needs a "snow" day on a regular basis, even in the summer!

Note: with a massive storm hitting parts of the Northeast this weekend, this suggestion seems oddly predictive!

Volunteering After Retirement: Been There, Done That

Last month reader Linda made a thought-provoking comment on the post about volunteering. She had spent decades of free time volunteering during her work years, involved with Camp Fire Girls, acting as a Sunday school teacher, and volunteering at the local school district.

Now, after retirement, her thoughts had turned to activities and passions that excited and involved her.  That decision made her wonder if she were a bit of an outlier (her words) for not wanting to spend some of her time in a volunteer position.

From my perspective, I completely understand her decision. I assured her she was not being selfish or out-of-step with the choice to decide the volunteer phase was over, at least for now. After 20+ years of giving her time and talents to others, focusing on self was both logical and acceptable.

If you had children and your schedule allowed,  you certainly put in volunteer time: Boy or girl scouts (and their cookie sales), PTA meetings, field trips, sports team coaching, costume-making for plays, classroom volunteer, Sunday school help.....the list was long and never-ending.

Her comment did prompt me to wonder how many others are in her position.  It is almost a cliche: volunteering after retirement is considered a given. After all, we have all this free time. Shouldn't we get off our duff and sign up to help?

Many of us responded to that siren call. It was expected, it was what retired people did. And, volunteering did give some structure and purpose to our day. After decades of having our movements controlled by others, it felt good to pick and choose how we spent some of our time. It made us feel good about ourselves and gave us a sense of worth and contribution.

My situation is a little different than Linda's,. During my working years, I was on the road for large periods of time each week; volunteering was not possible. Since retiring 21 years ago, the urge to give of my time made itself known. Prison ministry, lay counseling, Junior Achievement teaching, and now a strong link to the local library system have given me a needed tie to the community and a feeling of contribution.

Importantly, over those two decades what I volunteered to do, and how much time I gave have changed as my interests have evolved. One consequence of this shift in how I choose to spend my time is being more selective in volunteer commitments. 

Physical work, like sorting pallets of food for a food bank or helping at Habitat for Humanity is no longer on my radar. We'll leave that for the younger or more agile. Something that requires a lot of travel and several meetings per week, like Prison Ministry, just doesn't work for me at this stage of my life. Even something like working backstage at a community theater is best left to the more nimble. 

Larger group options have largely disappeared with the pandemic. At our age, there is just too much of a risk. With vaccination and masks a political issue, even verbal confrontations becoming more common, I don't need that in my life.

Working on various library boards and helping sort donated books meets my physical and mental requirements quite nicely. I can see the results of the volunteer efforts; I have a sense of "job well done" when the last book sale went well, or our discussion of funding a yearly scholarship program moves forward. 

Like Linda, I have to admit that volunteering can become a bit overwhelming. It is too easy to succumb to the feeling of guilt or "should do" because others ask for my time. Being more selective, even saying "No" at this stage of my life are legitimate choices. 

Volunteering should be voluntary. That is important to accept.

Investing Money After Retirement: Necessary or Too Risky?

 

As I write this post the stock market is swinging wildly: up 350 points one day, then down 600, up again 500, then plunging on word that the latest Covid variant is shutting down parts of Europe again or the supply problems are not getting any better. The same pandemic song we have been forced to listen to for the last two years continues to dominate the headlines and our lives.  It is all starting to feel like listening to an endless mixtape on permanent repeat.

At the same time, inflation is at its worst in quite a long time, as too many dollars chase too few goods.  The president is struggling with recalcitrant members of his own party, putting his plans for the country in the deep freeze for now. And, with the 2022 midterm election just around the corner, sometimes I just want to find a dark spot and hide.

it seems that now is not the time to be investing our retirement savings and money in anything new. Except, that could mean our hard-earned funds will lose purchasing power under the twin assault of inflation and an unsettled future. 

So, what to do? After retirement are we done investing new money? Do we take what we have and figure that is what has to last for the rest of our lives? I can only speak for me, but, yes, that has been my assumption. After all, I don't work anymore. I have no "extra" income, do I? What would I use to invest? And, could I handle the extra risk without an ulcer?

Actually,  the more I thought about it, the more obvious became the fact that I do have money to invest. My wife and I have continued our lifelong habit of spending less than our income. Specifically, between Social Security payments and the required minimum distribution from my IRA, we have more coming in each year than we need to support our lifestyle. Yes, there are occasional splurges, like a partial freshening up of the kitchen last spring or taking Betty to Disney World for her birthday, but that still doesn't put us in the red for the year.

The inheritance I received from my parents was invested several years ago and remains mostly untouched. Through the efforts of a financial advisor I trust implicitly, that money generates money, most of which we hope to leave to our daughters when the time comes. Of course, if something happens where we need to tap those funds, we will do so. For now, it is out of sight and not part of my consideration.

At the end of most years, there is leftover cash because expenses were lower than we had budgeted for.  We have just rolled that money over into the next year allowing for more money in certain budget categories for the new year. But, we could take those unspent funds and plug them back into investment accounts. The RMD has to be taken, even if we don't need all that money.  Rather than just letting it pile up, should I be a bit more aggressive?

I am naturally conservative and I don't know what the future holds. The first part of that sentence tells me to not risk new investments. The second half of that statement tells me we can't just stop trying to grow our financial resources

Knowing that investing after retirement is not such a far-fetched idea has been helpful. But, it isn't enough yet to convince me to follow through.......yet.

Mortality Will Be The Death Of Me Yet

I have no idea what my expiration date is. Unlike a carton of milk, there is no visible stamp somewhere on my body that tells me I am best used by a specific point on the calendar. And, frankly, I don't want to know. I would rather continue to live as if the rules of mortality don't apply to Robert Lowry. After all, it has worked so far.

OK, a little flippant about a serious concern of all of us. Among all living animals, fish, plants, and viruses, humans are the only ones cursed with an awareness of death at some point. There will come a moment when we are no more. While the other 7 billion people will continue on quite nicely, the idea of me no longer occupying space is not the easiest to accept. Won't there at least be a solar eclipse or something to mark my disappearance?

Nope, unless the two events just happen to coincide. There will be some sad, upset people. Stories of my life will become exaggerated over the years and then slowly disappear forever. The space I occupy will be filled in by time, both physically and mentally.

So, how do we accept this inevitability without going crazy? How do we avoid falling into a deep depression knowing what we know? In my opinion, answering this question is one of the most important we face during the aging process. How we approach this reality will make all the difference in the quality of our life moving forward.

To many, the answer lies in their belief system. All major faiths have some concept of what happens after our physical death. Whether there is an afterlife, resurrection, reincarnation, the Hindu samara, or a period of time after death until judgment day (Akhirah in the Islam faith), humans look for reassurance that this life is not all there is. 

Others take the position these spiritual beliefs are nothing more than the human desire to impart lasting significance to our existence. We can't face death if we think only of "dust to dust." So, we have invented ways to make the end not really the end. Atheists and Agnostics are among those who reject the happy ending: death is death, done and gone. 

Like most human beings I want to believe there is something after this life ends. Since childhood, I have been part of a belief system that preaches that everything great really happens after death on this earth. In the meantime we are to fight the good fight, accepting our failings and doing our best to adhere to the behavior that God wants.

A few years ago I began to involve myself in a serious examination of what I believed and why. I studied what various texts and sources say and what they mean to someone alive in the 21st century. 

What are the core messages in books, like the Bible, that were written when people still believed the earth was flat, heaven was a literal place just above the sky, and the sun rotated around our planet? Was there anything important behind the words that no longer made any logical sense in today's world? 

The short answer for me is yes. Books like the Bible are written by human beings attempting to describe something that is indescribable in human terms. The myths, stories, and miracles are the only language the authors had to put their feelings into words. As is often said, if we can perfectly describe a God, then he/she/it isn't much of a God. A force that formed the ever-expanding universe is beyond our limited capabilities to put all of that into words.

That being said, what about my mortality? What happens to Bob when Bob is no longer breathing?

The nice thing about what I am about to write is I will have no idea whether I am right or wrong until it happens. And, if I am wrong, I will be dead and unable to admit my mistake since the me who wrote it will have ceased to exist.

I believe an overall spiritual force or energy formed the universe. There are simply too many moving pieces that must all interact in precisely the way they do for everything in every galaxy to have happened by chance. 

I believe that spiritual force, and I am OK with the word, God, is infused into everything in the universe. Humans, dogs, plants, trees, the ocean...you name it, and there is something from the creator in each. Certain religions would think of it as the Holy Spirit and I am fine with that as a human way to describe what I am attempting to describe. 

I  believe that this spark of ultimate energy does not disappear upon my death. The fact that energy can neither be created nor destroyed - only converted from one form of energy to another, is what allows me to hold to this premise.

Now, what does that mean for the unique creation that is me? Do I come back in a different form, do I reunite with lost relatives in something we call heaven, does my body reform but without pain, suffering, or male pattern baldness? I have no idea. But, to believe that I am so irreplaceable that my death only sends the whole of me to a different plane of existence, strikes me as seriously egotistical. 

I believe that the essence that is part of my being will not be relegated to the dump, but reabsorbed back into the universal, eternal force that formed everything. I don't have a clue how that "essence" or spirit or soul is used or manifests itself from that point on. And, I don't need to speculate because that is all it would be, a wild guess. I know that my perception of what happens next gives me great comfort. It allows me to go about every day I am still here with energy, happiness, and a desire to contribute. 

Believe me, I am in no rush to find out if I am correct. But, my mortality does not have a terrifying, fearful hold on me. True, I may be kidding myself. If so, the good news is I will never know.

Retirement Revisited: How To Get Ready

Every so often I am returning to the roots of Satisfying Retirement and rerunning a post that deals strictly with the nuts and bolts of retirement.  If you have yet to leave full-time work and have questions about what is ahead, I trust these posts will help you. If already retired, there is never a bad time to review what got you there and how to improve your experience.

What if you eventually want to retire, just not now? You are not there yet. Maybe it is a savings and money issue. Maybe you enjoy your job and the stimulation it gives you. Maybe your responsibilities with your family must be front and center for now. Maybe retirement scares you a bit. That just makes you normal. For whatever reason, you want to remain in the workforce but would like some suggestions on how to prepare for the day when you are ready.

Here are some important concerns:

A) Make Your Financial Projections: Get a paper and pencil, spreadsheet program on your computer, or anything that will help you with the following:
What is your projected income from now until you retire? Obviously, this is a guess. Your job might disappear tomorrow. But, based on your past situation, you should be able to make an educated guess of what you expect to make from now until you do retire. 

What do you expect to receive from Social Security? Avoid the "it won't be there for me" panic attack. We don't know the future, but we know the present. If Social Security undergoes revisions, those changes won't take effect immediately, they will be well into the future. So, for now, use what is real today.

You get a yearly report that tells you what you can expect based on your past earnings. Do you think you will have to take your payments as early as allowed, or will you be able to wait? There are logical reasons for both courses of action that are based on your status. Add that monthly amount to your projections.

What is the current status of your retirement savings and investments? You can't predict what the market will do. You can project how much you plan on saving and investing in the years ahead. Using a conservative growth projection, what should you have when you are ready to retire? What do you need to have available when you retire?

Here's a biggie: what about health care costs? None of us knows what the future holds in this area. Personally, the only thing I expect is prices to continue to rise, deductibles and copays to increase, and coverage to get skimpier. Plan on a 10-15% increase every year until you are eligible for Medicare (or its successor). Even after you turn 65, the average American will spend $250,000 on medical care. Budget for that often forgotten expense.

OK, now with those figures available to you, can you live on that for 30 years? People in good health today who are in their 40s or 50's can expect to live into their late 80s or mid-90s. If you retire sometime around 65, you will have to take care of yourself for another 20-30 years. Can you?


B) Make Your Lifestyle projections: Your financial situation will determine the overall structure of the life you will lead in retirement. Lifestyle issues will determine the quality: whether it is enjoyable and satisfying. Are you ready?

Where will you live? Many folks want to escape weather they don't like and use retirement as the motivation to move somewhere more to their liking. Or, their family lives somewhere else in the country and moving closer would make them happier.

Others like the roots they have established where they are, have family and friends nearby, and don't want to go anywhere. Moving to a retirement community on the other side of the country would never cross their mind. Aging in place is the plan.

Do you envision yourself in an "active adult" community, an age-restricted setup, an urban or rural environment, or selling everything and becoming a nomad in an RV?

What about the complications that arise when one or both spouses are with each other 24/7? Trust me, this is a major adjustment for both partners. No matter how many books on relationship building you've checked out of the library, and how much you love your partner, being together all the time is tough without some planning.

Do you have something besides work that you love to do? If work is your vocation and avocation what will you do when you don't have that anymore? Do you have any interests, passions, or hobbies you'd love to explore? It is best to figure that out before you walk in the door of your house, retired, with no idea what to do next.

I've made the point many times that retirement is a huge adjustment for anyone. I don't care how well prepared you think you are, there are things you have not foreseen that will happen. Such uncertainty shouldn't freeze you in place. Life is all about change. There is no way to cover all your bases ahead of time.

So, what to do? Plan, plan, plan. Then plan some more. Consider everything you know and things you know you don't know. Then, when the time is right for you, just do it. You will learn to adjust. You will struggle, grow, panic, and thrive. That is life whether you are retired or not.

And, as I begin my 21st year, I can vouch for the satisfaction that comes from having your time and your life under your control.

The Value of Remembering The Good and Not So Good.

I have begun a 52-week creative writing course. Every seven days there is a new topic with some probing questions. The goal is for me to take life experiences, attitudes, and brainstorming to enhance both my writing skills and provide me with possible posts for this blog.

One of the first series of questions dealt with work. I was to write a paragraph or two about all the various jobs I have held in my lifetime, both paid, and volunteer positions that were long term.

Then, I was to recall my worst employment memories and the best ones to help me uncover some personality traits and decisions that put me in those positions. Finally, I was to develop a handful of takeaway life lessons. 

I am aware that some of what I wrote, and will now convey, won't be completely relatable to you. They were things that happened to me that you likely don't share. But, there is a chance if you read through my responses to this writing course, it might trigger some memories of your own. Maybe some were suppressed, forgotten about, or maybe bring back a flood of positive remembrances.

A) Jobs and long-term volunteer commitments I remember:

Counselor in training at summer camp, newspaper route, selling collectible stamps, writing and distributing neighborhood newspaper, radio station janitor and then part-time, full-time radio announcer, corporate positions, consultant, researcher, speaker, JA teacher, board member, blogger, author, lay ministry and teacher, prison ministry, library board positions.

My worst job was as a counselor in training. I had to call my parents to take me home after realizing I was completely unsuited. I was much too immature to be in charge of kids just a few years younger than me. I picked favorite campers, became homesick, and found a strong dislike for a cabin/in-the-wood lifestyle. I think I lasted less than a week,

My Grandad wrote me a wonderful letter about understanding what had gone wrong and to learn from it, to not get too down on myself. He turned a personal disaster into a supportive learning moment. I will never forget his grace at that moment.

The second worst job was taking a new company startup position in Tucson and having my righthand man quit to go into competition. I had no idea what I was doing in setting up that company. Once another part of the company's business fell through, my job quickly vanished.

Of course, that firing set up a very successful self-employment ride. But, initially, it was scary. In thinking back, I don't remember ever being in a real panic. I was pretty confident from the beginning that I could land on my feet and support the family. But, mac and cheese for the better part of a year leave some scars.

One of my radio on-air jobs was really a step down from the previous one. Both in terms of the people and learning, it was a placeholder for whatever was next. I was beginning to understand that being a disc jockey wasn't to be my long-term future.

I knew being a program director had to in the very near future. I would probably have been better served to stay at the first station until that happened. I think I got kind of bored and started to feel unfulfilled with the sameness of the job each day, even though the air work was quite a kick.

So, I took a position closer to my hometown. But, it didn't help me grow my skills at all. There was no one to teach me or prod me into improving. This was a 12-month long mistake.

Best jobs? Probably the first part-time work at a small local station near my hometown. At 16 I felt grown up and found it very fulfilling. I was like a sponge, soaking up everything from people who, in hindsight, weren't the best teachers. But, they motivated me up to commit to this as my life's work.

Doing live broadcasts at the county fair and car dealerships was a rush. Thinking back, I have often wondered how the Ford dealer felt paying for a radio station live appearance and having a 16-year-old kid running it. Probably disappointed!

Most important to my future was being hired by a consulting company based in Cedar Rapids. That was a strong vote of confidence in my skills in radio and set me on a path that would result in a national reputation and solid future. The people I worked with were stimulating and generally supportive. I learned to spend much of my time on airplanes and in hotels.

I did learn one very important lesson: a large corporate position wasn't my best fit. I had a hard time agreeing with what I saw as bad decisions, trying to fit into a particular mold, and having to temper my speech and communication to not rock the wrong boat.

At one point I was working for the broadcasting arm of the Mormon church. Being a non-Mormon created a constant undercurrent of being an outsider. I wasn't particularly religious or opposed to their primary beliefs...I didn't give them much thought. Bonneville was a meal ticket and an excellent listing on my resume. However, I probably couldn't have bought into their philosophy of life and family, and beliefs for too long without things becoming uncomfortable.

After the corporate exposures and being fired in Tucson, I was forced into self-employment. The sales part and the marketing didn't come naturally to me, but word of mouth, well-known clients, and a string of successes led to a comfortable life.

The downfall came from not growing. I simply repeated what I already had learned while the industry changed around me. I dedicated absolutely no time in analyzing what I and others were doing and how my product could have been improved.

I also became a little too full of myself, refusing to wear appropriate "consultant clothes,"  at times, under the attitude if they couldn't take me the way I looked, then who needed them? Bottom line? I did.

I remember one particular time when I showed up at a new client in a casual shirt and pants instead of the normal suit or sports coat and tie. I still recall a rather shocked look from the woman who met me at the airport. She was expecting a management-looking person, not someone dressed like one of her on-air jocks.

Pride before the fall. Taking too many clients. Not investing in myself in terms of learning and growing. And, having the industry change so dramatically that how I worked was doomed.

I was offered a chance or two to join a company as an in-house consultant or programmer. But those opportunities would have involved a move, put me back in the corporate world that I knew was a bad fit. I decided my freedom and possible income would be too restricted.

End result: out of business about 10 years earlier than I expected to be. Commitment to a spend-less-then-you-earn lifestyle for the previous 30 years meant we did not have to fight to remain in what had become a grind for me. 

For the last 5-7 years of my self-employment, I think I was just going through the motions. That was completely unfair to the clients paying me, and to myself for doing something I was no longer passionate about.

Lessons Learned:

1) Know yourself and change your situation to allow you to flourish

2) Invest in yourself continuously

3) Stop doing whatever you are doing when it is no longer fun and fulfilling

4) Plan for the end of your employment life even if you have no idea when it will occur.

I hope this "behind the curtain" look was interesting or at least caused you to think a bit about what major factors brought you to where you are in life now.

I get a fresh set of probing questions from the writing course every Monday. What lies ahead?

The Year That Was: Lessons Learned (and Relearned)

The year 2021 is in the books, done and gone. It wasn't nearly as awful as its big brother a year earlier. That was the king of crappy times. But, it will not go into the books as a great 365 days.

Even so, there were some lessons to be learned, or relearned. It is not possible to spend day after day for 12 months, and not have gained something, even if it is a double dose of "thank God that's over."

I don't generate resolutions for two simple reasons: I never keep new ones for more than a few weeks, and I am doing what is important to me already; I don't wait for January 1st to change behavior or interests.

In place of easily broken promises, I do like to see what I can take away from being alive for another year. What did the just-completed one guide me toward, remind me of, or caution me to avoid? No matter how the year unfolded, what lessons did it teach me? In no particular order:

1) Be Adaptable

Two tickets for a play that was canceled. They can be used this year. The painting class: teacher gets Covid. I find a world of information on YouTube. Trip to England? Too risky. Go to Kauai instead.

Shopping in stores becomes an exercise in futility as supply problems leave too many shelves bare and the wrong sizes in stock. Online shopping fills the void while delaying or doing without is not life-altering. In fact, it is good to decide that a new whatever is really not needed.

The past few years have emphasized the importance of being able to change, and turn lemons into lemonade. With the rules for behavior and social interaction changing day to day, flexibility is required.

2) Remember the long game.

Covid. Inflation. Supply chain issues. Strange and dangerous weather (think forest fires in Colorado in December), At times, these (and other) problems feel as if they will last forever. There are 21 letters left in the Greek alphabet to use for pandemic variants. Climate change is going to get worse, even if some of us aren't convinced why it is happening. Distressing as it seems, election season is underway again, with the rhetoric and vitriol at the boiling point already.

Even so, history is a long slog, not a short story. We tend to think this is the "worst of times" because we are living it. Yet, if even a little time is spent looking at what is behind us, the world, even America, has been at much worse places many times, again and again. That truth doesn't make today's frustrations go away, but it tends to put them in perspective.

3) I can entertain myself quite nicely. 

As noted above, our tickets to a play (actually two different ones) became unusable. Vacation plans were shelved. Going to a baseball game was not deemed worth the risk. The fun of sitting in a dark movie theater, loaded down with popcorn and a drink, didn't happen. Dinner at a sit-down restaurant was skipped for most of last year.

Name a friend or family member who hasn't discovered the wonders of streaming movies and shows into their living room. The library opened earlier than many places, for pickup of book holds in a cordoned-off area of the lobby.

Michaels, Best Buy, Target...almost every company, offered touch-free pickup in their parking lot or delivery to your front porch. Food, either groceries or prepared meals replaced dining away from home. Combined with a streaming movie, that became a date night.

If I could get painting supplies my wandering path down my artistic trail could continue. Photographs taken over the past few years could be reviewed, with a dozen or so being enlarged and mounted in a frame in the hallway, brightening up the house and bringing back a flood of memories.

Break a guitar string? Getting a replacement took a day or two. Books? When the library wasn't open and my budget couldn't stomach another $25, audio and e-books filled the gap. Our library has a service called Pressreader that allows me to choose from hundreds of magazines and newspapers all over the world, delivered right to the smartphone or laptop. 

Entertainment and learning have become less of a spectator sport. We have an infinite amount of places to turn and things to explore to keep our minds active and our time productive.

4) Relationships are vital to a satisfying life. 

The first glimmers of renewed human contact started in early 2021. After a few false beginnings, enough time after vaccines and boosters, and with some common-sense adjustments, we were able to talk to someone other than ourselves, or an electronic version on Zoom. 

What became quite apparent was how much we missed human interaction. If you are married, no matter how perfect your union is, the same person, with the same annoying habits, having the same discussions (arguments?), and doing the same thing for months on end, becomes old. If you have school-aged children who were caught in the hell of virtual classroom learning, triple that irritation.

Being single means you are stuck with yourself, day after day, hour after hour. Admittedly, I am a bit of a loner. I prefer my own company most of the time. But, even a hermit needs to go to town for supplies occasionally. Lockdowns, or having friends who don't feel safe in others' company, leave the singles among us, anxiously seeking the sight, touch, and sound of another.

If nothing else, 2021 reinforced my appreciation for a solid, (almost) 46-year relationship. Are there times we'd rather be on a solo, slow boat to China? Yep. But, that is a fleeting thought. Did I miss seeing folks I know and like at church, or a library meeting? Absolutely. Relationships are an essential part of being human. 

Last year's lessons are learned, the new year holds tremendous potential. Let's promise each other that when I write a post like this in early 2023 there will be much less to worry about.  We will look back fondly on this year as a high water mark!

Fingers crossed (and boosters taken)

A New Year: Time To Re-Brand Yourself?

What is the most depressing word in the English language? According to Ernest Hemmingway, it is “retirement.” The dictionary defines retirement as an ending, a conclusion, a termination, seclusion –get the idea? These are not very pleasant connotations. Yet, this is the word we hear or use every day and it can affect how we think. Ask someone of a certain age what they do, and nine times out of ten, the answer will be "I'm retired."  

Of course, that doesn't really answer the question. Retirement is a state of being, but it is not who you are or even what you do, I hope.

What we need is personal re-branding. The goal is to change the image of the word. Retirement needs to be positioned in folks' minds as a period of incredible opportunity. It isn’t a conclusion, rather it is an encore, an additional performance added to an already great event. It is a time when your talents and creativity can reach new heights.

Companies rebrand all the time. They come up with a new product name, or design for the packaging. Old products disappear to be replaced with "new and improved" versions. Why not us? How would your retirement be rebranded? Here are a few thoughts:

Create a vision of how you’d live if you could start from scratch. Here’s a shocker: that’s exactly what happens when you leave the job behind. You are starting again with a clean slate. How you spend your time and energy, who you associate with, what new challenges you take on are all within your power. Obviously, finances or health will create some barriers. But, I contend there are fewer limitations than you had when you were working 40 hours a week.

Set timetables for turning that vision into your life. This doesn’t mean, “By Friday I’ll learn to play the guitar.” A realistic goal for the next year might be to become good enough to play a few songs for friends at a picnic. If your health isn’t where you want it to be, your goal could be to get your cholesterol numbers below 190 by your next physical. Setting goals that are too general and too open-ended won’t work. You must be able to measure your progress.

Tell friends and family what you are doing. “Going public” is one of the best ways to keep you motivated. None of us likes to say we are going to do something and then not live up to the promise. If you keep your goals and vision to yourself, it is much easier to waffle and make excuses.

Don’t accept the marketplace’s definition of who you are and what you can do. Being retired means only what you allow it to mean. For many this is the busiest, most exciting, most fulfilling time of their lives. To them, retirement means re-fire-ment: becoming fired up by all that life has to offer.

Don't be afraid to shake things up. Maybe that means moving to another part of town, or another part of the country altogether. Maybe you want to try living in a small condo in the center of the city instead of the suburbs or try full-time RVing for a time. Join a club, volunteer for something a little out of your comfort zone. Now is the time when you can experiment with your lifestyle. Do it.

Rebranding this part of your life into what you want it to be can be one of the most important decisions you make. Don’t allow society to put you in a small box when you feel like a massive storage container.

The start of a new year always feels like we have a clean slate. While not literally true, there is a psychological feeling of beginning anew. Lean into that freshness of 2022. 

Being retired has nothing to do with who you are and what you can accomplish. Dedicate this year to not allowing the public perception to defining you.