Response to Time-Management Comment

In a recent comment, a reader observed that the way we spend our time is a direct reflection of our priorities in life.

I agree whole-heartedly. It's the same thing with our checkbooks. A long time ago a wise person told me that you can look at the entries in a check register / or on an on-line bank statement and tell what a person's priorities are. Scary thought, isn't it? I am trying to be deliberate about choosing how I spend my time as well as my money instead of letting everyone else choose for me. But it's easy to get caught up in the day to day rush and to forget to stop and ask--is this really what I am meant to be doing now?

For example, you will notice that there have been fewer entries on my blog recently. I have gotten drawn into other activities, most of which are what I consider worth-while: helping my sister with a project; preparing for Thanksgiving; serving on a committee in a community-service organization. However, choosing to participate in these activities took me away from my focus and I temporarily lost my drive to write. In some ways I resent that. Does that mean I am being selfish? I have read comments from writers indicating that writing is a solitary and seemingly selfish passion. This aspect of writing would be at odds with who I am as a person.

Right now I have an opportunity to go back to work for a part time job and I am torn. I feel like I haven't had enough of my ME time yet. The minute I go back to work, I will stop focusing on my writing, my reading, my exercising--all of which have been so important for me. I know myself well enough to know that I will throw myself into the job and everything else will become secondary. But wouldn't it be nice to have a few extra thousand dollars to allow me to take a trip next summer? I am wrestling with this dilemma. It has always been hard for me to pass up an opportunity. Any suggestions out there?

Valuing the journey as well as the destination OR "What do the ideas of time management and sailing have in common?"

In my last two postings, I expressed frustration over the fact that I haven’t made any demonstrable progress in reaching my dream goal for retirement, i.e., writing a book. For today, I think instead of beating myself up for not making the progress that I would like to have made, I need to take a more positive approach and look at what I have accomplished since June 30, 2008, the date of my retirement. I also need to get real about how I want to live my life. Again, I return to the question: What does it take for me to feel that I am living a fulfilling, meaningful, life?

To review, my initial goals for retirement were to engage in activities that challenged me cognitively, physically and socially. I also included the concept of “engagement” in a cause that is bigger than myself as being necessary to keep me focused and centered. I am very satisfied with my involvement in book study groups that I have joined. They are providing me with both cognitive challenges and social opportunities and I have been thankful for this new opportunity to share and discuss literature. I even served as facilitator at the latest one on John Updike’s Terrorist. The session was a good one and it was clear that my skills as a meeting facilitator, learned and cultivated through many years of leading teacher study groups, combined with my passion for John Updike produced an environment where everyone was comfortable and felt empowered to speak up to share their reactions. I was on a high. I felt I was in my element. What does this tell me about myself?

I have made progress on my exercise / physical fitness goals. In terms that can be measured, I have managed to shed a few pounds and have firmed up important muscle groups. I am able to execute the first basic form of Tai Chi. I continue to remain informed about nutrition and take deliberate steps to buy and consume only those foods which are rich in nutrients (and which my son the nutritionist would approve of.) In addition to my book study groups, I have other outlets for social engagement and volunteerism which keep me involved with friends and provide an emotional support system.

My commitment to reading groups as my primary vehicle for the pursuit of cognitive challenges derives from two underlying desires, the first being to rediscover the pure joy of sitting down with a good book and entering that other world inhabited by people and situations which reveal universal themes that I can relate to. This is where I find so much real pleasure. Time spent in reading is always time well spent. I am continually learning and growing when I read.

The second reason for my determination to be an active participant in my book study groups is to provide myself with an avenue for learning more about what makes good literature. I want to read for pleasure—and then some. I want to read so that I can learn how to write. In that regard, in addition to reading novels, I have researched the writing process and the publishing industry. I love that classic adage written on the classroom walls in 90% of the schools in the division where I worked for 14 years: first learn to read; then read to learn. After all those years of reading to learn how to be a better teacher / how to be a better leader / how to collect and use data to improve instruction, I am now reading to learn how to be a writer. What a treat!

I have always been somewhat impulsive and impatient about things that I really want to accomplish. I am susceptible to severe cases of tunnel vision and am able to block out everything that doesn’t directly relate to my goals. Maybe I need to rethink my attitude about where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing. Haven’t I been working toward my goal of writing a book by reading and discussing what I’ve read? All of the book studies that I have donehave in fact been leading me up to the point where I will be better prepared to take the first critical steps of writing.

As retirees, when we set goals for ourselves, it doesn’t mean that they have to all be accomplished by tomorrow—or by next week—or next month. There is no reason to be as driven as we were when we were working. Instead, what we have identified as goals should serve as a sort of compass, a general direction that we want to follow.

To borrow some sailing metaphors from a dear friend, let’s imagine that we are cruising on our sailboat, and we have plotted a general course which will lead to our ultimate destination. Does that mean that we can’t take an occasional side trip to explore a newly discovered cove or marina? Or that we can’t just stop for a day, drop anchor, and enjoy the air, the sun and the water? Aren’t we supposed to enjoy the actual journey? I learned long ago that success and happiness are not measured by being the first to cross the finish line. Success and happiness are measured by how well we live every day and by enjoying the ride every minute as we steer toward our desired destination. For me, this credo should translate into turning every moment that I may perceive as a “distraction” from my long term goal of writing a book, e.g., activities such as meeting friends for lunch or going to the gym, into moments and incidents which will in the long run enrich my life and also broaden my perspective. This is indeed the gift that retirement offers.

Time Management Part 2

Here are all the items on my to-do list:

--Finish weeding the garden
--Call the man who helps with occasional garden tasks

to schedule the work to cut back ivy and to prune shrubs
--Vacuum the floors in the house and mop up all the spots

where my dog has either slobbered or piddled on the

hard wood floors
--Grocery shop
--Write five sympathy cards
--Finish reading the Sunday Washington Post
--Begin the photo album from my son’s wedding
--Begin the Sister City picture scrapbook for 2009
--Go to Ritz camera to develop pictures for above scrapbooks
--Organize all the digital picture files on my computer
--Read the camera manual for my new digital camera

in preparation for the digital photography class I have

signed up for on October 24

Well, as much as I like to think of myself as a free spirit, I do still have a need for some order and structure in my life. Otherwise, why would I even have a “to-do”list? I like a neat, clean house and an attractive well-kept yard. I like to have healthy food on hand in my house so that I’m not tempted to snack on unhealthy foods. I am aware that I need to keep myself active socially so that I don’t become a complete hermit. As much as I’d like to just sit on my couch and watch old movies all day long, I know that it is not in my best interest to do so.

As I write this list, it becomes clear to me that some of these tasks are the long-term variety (e.g., the photo albums) and some are the one-time, get it done now variety (e.g. vacuum the floors). So, which ones should I tackle today? Do any of them really matter to anyone other than myself? Maybe I need two lists: One for the long-term tasks that need to be worked on in stages and another for the short-term, one time tasks.

Maybe it would be helpful for me to have some criteria to help me decide which are the jobs that need to be done now and which ones can wait? For example, have I considered the following?


Does this task and its completion affect anyone other than myself? Will I be letting someone down?

Have I done my share of physical activity this week? Am I due for a date with the treadmill at the YMCA?

Have I thought about my loved ones or about those who I don’t know personally but whose lives might be improved or made more cheerful by a visit or a personal note or participation in a volunteer activity from me? (What about those five sympathy cards that are sitting on my desk and haven’t been written / mailed yet?)

How will I feel at the end of the day if I do (or do not) complete this chore? Will I feel really satisfied? How much satisfaction does this particular obligation provide me anyway? Do I really need to serve on that committee? Am I over-obligated?

What have I done for myself lately? What have I done for others?

For today, just by asking myself these questions, I see that I really ought to get out those sympathy cards. Of all the jobs I have already procrastinated on, that is one job that could make a small difference in the life of a grieving friend. So maybe that’s the one to start with. And on the way to buy / mail the cards, I can stop at the grocery store for the few items I need in order to keep a healthy, well-balanced food pantry in my house. The remaining items don’t seem as pressing. Well—at least I got through this one day. Tomorrow, I’ll do a re-evaluation and start the process all over again.

Time Management

True / False
Retirees have no problems with time management.

How did you answer this question?
Let’s analyze the statement.


The answer must be True, right? How can anyone who is retired have problems with time management? As a retiree, I now have more free time than I have ever had in all of the 63 years of my life. I can set my own schedule every day. I don’t have anyone else’s expectations to meet on a daily basis. I am the master of my castle; the captain of my ship. How could there be any problems with time management?

In all truthfulness, for me, the answer to this question is False. This issue of time management has been an unexpected challenge for me as a retiree. With all this new-found free time, suddenly the immediate priorities are no longer as clear as they were when I was working 40 + hours per week. In my prior life as a professional working woman, if the only time I had free to do yard work was on the weekend, that’s when I did it. When the time was limited, the choices for how to spend it were easier and more obvious. I am still in awe of myself when I remember how much I used to accomplish on one day of a weekend when I was working and had young children. In one Saturday I would get up early, go to the grocery store; return home by 10 a.m. to take my boys to a soccer game; return home again and prepare lunch for everyone; work in the yard or do laundry in the afternoon; cook dinner and maybe even go out with a group of friends for a few hours in the evening. Sundays were full of church, Sunday School, family dinner, taking the boys to a park or a museum, preparing lesson plans and grading papers.

Heck, these days, I’m lucky if I am even up and dressed by 10:00 a.m. especially now that the weather is turning colder and the temptation to stay in my warm, cozy bed is so hard to resist. It’s very easy to get drawn into the momentary pleasures of my day to day existence and to prolong the time I spend on them. It’s equally easy to put off tasks that may be on my daily checklist. (Wait till I show you my checklist—remember I said I am a type A personality?) After all, there are no deadlines to meet; no one other than myself cares if this or that job gets completed or not. In fact, isn’t this one of the rewards of retirement? Why am I even worrying about this? As I said, who cares if certain jobs do or do not get done?

If you had asked me about time management one year ago, I would have told you that you were crazy for even asking the question. Time management was not an issue for me because, as I happily told my friends when they asked me what I was planning to do in my retirement, my sole purpose in retirement was to do “whatever I damn well please.” I went blissfully from one activity to the next. I had rid my life of all the “shoulds” and was only concerning myself with what felt right for the moment. Now that I am entering the second year of my retirement, surprisingly I find that I am getting a little frustrated with myself because I have so much trouble making up my mind about how to spend the day. Some days there are multiple things that I want to do but I can’t decide which one to do first. And then there have been a few evenings when I have asked myself, What have you accomplished today? What about that novel that you said you were going to write when you retired? I am reminded that the greatest gift of retirement is time and that the gift of time is precious. What do I have to show for my time?

Let me give you an example. I am looking at my calendar for October. Instead of nice clean empty squares for the 31 days of this month, my calendar is riddled with activities such as the following: foot doctor appointment for me; mammogram for me; flu shot and shingles shot for me; grooming appointment and rabies shot for my dog; lunch date with a friend; Elder Study classes or curriculum meetings; book study groups; exercise classes; walking dates with friends; a digital photography class; wine-tasting with Sister City; visiting my niece and her new baby; serving dinner at the Homeless Shelter; and appointments for minor home repairs. It’s like an average of one event per day.

This is all good stuff; these are activities I signed up for and that I can cancel if I don’t want to attend on any given day. Many of these are activities that I would not have had time for prior to my retirement. But where is that long span of uninterrupted time when I can seriously tackle starting to write a chapter for my book? Am I “nickleing and diming” myself instead of saving up precious energy and time for the big, important things?

Any suggestions out there on time management? What does your calendar look like?

Retirement--a POWERful Experience in Rewiring

In a recent AARP Magazine article, Yakov Smirnof, comedian and writer, points out that in retirement “you are approaching a time in life when you can not only choose the games you wish to play but also write your own rules and be a winner every time.” (May-June, 2009, p. 18)

Wow, that’s a liberating thought, isn’t it? Life without rules. Do what you want. No more following directions and fulfilling everyone else’s expectations. For the majority of our lives, we have been following rules and fulfilling expectations that were set for us, first by our parents, then by our families, and then by our jobs. There didn’t seem to be much time for anything else. In fact, time was a most precious commodity and there was never enough to go around.

Do you know what a fuse box and retirement have in common? Let’s examine for a minute these two very different concepts. What is the purpose of a fuse box? With apologies to my electrician friends, in novice terms, let me just say that the fuse box brings power into your home and then distributes it to the various sites where it is needed. Wires connecting the fuse box lead directly to kitchen appliances, electronic equipment, lights, cooling and heating systems, among other things. Some appliances need more powerful fuses than others, and the electrician is the expert who selects the appropriate fuses and hooks up the wires as needed.

Think of yourself as a source of energy, similar to the panel of fuses in your house. For the past thirty (plus or minus) years that you have been working, you divided up your energy among the various demands of your life. If, like me, your priorities centered around family and work, the majority of your energy went toward satisfying the needs and demands of those two areas of your life. You as an individual were wired for certain behaviors and recurring tasks. Now, take away that job, take away those children who have probably moved out, and you are left with a very large source of energy that has nowhere to go. It’s just sitting there unused.

If this is the case, it would appear that a new retiree might need a little rewiring. Just as a brick and mortar building needs to be rewired periodically to update all of the electrical connections as a house is modernized, we often hear this word “rewiring” used to describe a person who is going through a major life change and who will need a whole new set of skills and renewed perspectives to cope with the future that he / she is facing.I like this metaphor to describe the changes that I have been experiencing during the past year. For the majority of my life, my priorities were family and work. The majority of my electrical circuits had their origins in the fuses governing these two areas of my life and provided the power for me to perform the functions needed to successfully cover those areas of my life. However, the hard-learned skill-sets, talents or modes of thinking that I have cultivated for 34 years and that earned me a certain degree of success and a reputation for reliability in my work may no longer be needed or even applicable for the decisions that I will be making today.

As a parent and an educator, there were many rules I had to live by. These rules determined to a large extent the way I was wired. They guided my choices and the way I carried out my responsibilities. Be strong. Be a good role model. Be fair. Be consistent. Be organized. Be patient. Be generous. Be knowledgeable. Use your time wisely. Be enthusiastic. Be creative. Be a good listener. Be a team player. Do your best.

At first, the thought of entering a realm of “no rules,” creates a sense of excitement and we think this thing called retirement should be a cake walk! If there are no rules, I can’t make any mistakes, right? Well, imagine a classroom teacher coming in on day one of school and announcing to her students that there will be no rules in this class this year. Can you imagine the chaos and the uncertainty?

In fact, being rewired for a system where there are no rules puts a greater responsibility on ourselves and makes us face our own set of values. All of a sudden, instead of living up to everyone else’s expectations for ourselves, we have only to live up to our own. But do we even know what they are?If never before, retirement is a time for a thorough re-examination of our own priorities. Retirement is a gift that we have earned. It is the gift of rest, recuperation, reflection and recreation. It is a time to explore, discover, listen, watch, and experiment. For me personally, I have asked myself things like--What makes me tick? Am I someone who needs constant interaction with other people? Or do I thrive on the quiet times sitting cozily on my sofa with my cat and dog nearby reading the latest selection for my book club or watching a classic movie on TCM? What will it take for me to feel good about myself today? What does it take for me to feel good about myself on any day? What are my own standards for happiness? For success? For fulfillment? Are there some areas of my life that have been left “in the dark” because of the responsibilities I had but that could still be there waiting to be brought into the light?

What about taking care of myself physically? Don’t I owe it to myself to stay healthy so that I won’t be a burden to my children or my siblings in later years? What about the greater role that I could be playing in my community? What skills do I have that might be helpful to someone else? What are my dreams? Do I have the drive and commitment I’ll need to attain those dreams?

What about you? Have you thought about rewiring for retirement? What will guide your thinking and your actions as you move forward into your sixties, seventies, eighties and beyond?

Yakov Says . . . Make Your Own Rules

In response to a question from a reader who expressed terror at the prospect of a future after retirement and the lack of structure provided to her life by work and raising a family, Yakov Smirnoff, comedian and writer, wrote the following in the AARP Magazine (May/June 2009, p. 18):

Here is the short version of the question:

“I keep obsessing about the inevitable day when I’ll have no job responsibilities. I feel as if my life is shrinking. How do I find my passion again?”

“You are approaching a time in life when you can not only choose the games you wish to play but also write your own rules and be a winner every time. You’ll finally have the time and the freedom to experiment and play, with hobbies and new occupations that interest you. What do you really love to do—I mean, besides your job? What energizes and excites you? Even though you may still have quite a few working years left, it’s not too early to get a jump-start on working toward making yourself a winner.”

Yakov Smirnoff has captured so well in this short answer a healthy and hope-filled perspective toward retirement that I happen to share with him. This is just one sample of the type of article available to you as a member of AARP. If you haven’t already discovered the wealth of information made available by AARP (American Association of Retired Persons), I suggest that you go to your computer right now and look it up on the internet to find out how to join. Like me, you might be thinking—I’m not that old! How can I be ready to subscribe to AARP? Isn’t that something for my parents or my grandparents? Well, guess what friends. You are your parents! If you are following this blog, chances are you are old enough to qualify for membership in AARP. Check it out. http://www.aarp.org

Family Legacies

In my last posting, I wrote about my father and our collaborative exercise of looking back over his life to identify the significant episodes in each decade of his 95 years. Just seven days ago marked the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death, which provoked more reminiscences on my part. Coincidentally, last week also marked the death of Senator Ted Kennedy. The news media is full of articles and editorials about the Kennedy Legacy—in particular, the legacy of public service. Then there are the poignant stories about Ted the dad encouraging his son after his leg amputation and Uncle Teddy, the father-figure for the whole Kennedy clan after so many of the fathers of the family had met with violent deaths. The responsibilities on this man’s shoulders were enormous.

As a follow-up to the exercise I did with my Dad, in today’s posting I’d like to write about some of the legacies left to me by my parents (pictured above soon after their marriage in 1936) and about how they impacted my life. I don’t have to look very far to identify the foremost legacies left by my mother and father. For my parents, it was clear that family was the number one priority. How do I know this? Did they tell me? I don’t remember that either parent ever actually verbalized to me what they valued and why they lived their life the way they did. Even if they didn’t spell it out for me, I’d know because they lived it. I can tell you about the car trips to holiday celebrations when we gathered at either my mom’s or my dad’s family homes in West Virginia. This is where we got to know our grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins and also where we got to observe what our family represented. During these family events, we children learned how to sit quietly and listen to our elders talk, contributing to the conversation and sharing our latest adventures when we were asked questions. We knew that we were expected to be there and that we were expected to display proper manners and behavior. This was part of the privilege and the responsibility of being a member of the Saville family.

In addition to these holiday times, there were the weekly Sunday rituals when we attended church as a family and then returned home to gather around the dining room table and share our traditional Sunday dinner, usually pot roast with potatoes, carrots and onions—always preceded by saying the blessing and followed by the clean-up. On Sundays as on every evening of the week, we were all expected to be there for dinner, and to help out by setting the table and clearing up after the meal. One of our favorite family memories and shared images is of the four children, lined up in front of the kitchen counter, the youngest standing on a step stool, each with an assigned task for the week—washing, rinsing, drying or putting away the dishes. This image speaks volumes about what it meant to be a member of the family.

And then there were the very clear expectations that we would all work hard in school; that we would go to college; and that we would prepare for a profession so that we would be able to support ourselves, boys and girls alike, and so that we would be able to make positive contributions to our communities. From my mom, we got the high expectations for performance. From my dad, we got the work ethic that meant you stuck with a job until it was done and done well.

All of this, we got within the first two decades of our lives—mainly through the power of observation and assimilation as we watched our parents move through their lives. These formative years of my life were spent in the safety and protection of a loving family. There was church, Girl Scouts, 4-H, piano lessons and a whole score of other healthy, wholesome activities. The most incredible aspect of all this is that in addition to teaching their 4 children these life-long lessons, my parents were both pursuing careers which made them valued and respected members of the larger community. We learned that it is possible to raise a family and at the same time to do your professional job and to do it well. We did not see an attitude of “I work from 9-5 and don’t ask me to do anymore.” Rather, we saw “You do what it takes to excel and to be the best teacher / public servant that you can be. Mediocrity is not an option.”

I look at my own life as a working parent, and I see the same patterns of parenting combined with pursuit of a career. I tried to teach my children to be engaged in life from an early age; to participate in worthwhile activities; to respect and to be helpful to others; and to value learning. I’m not sure how well I carried out the high expectations part. I know that at some level I was always afraid of putting excessive pressure on my own children to live up to MY expectations, something which I saw too often among the students and families where I taught. As for myself, let’s just say that “achievement-oriented” is my middle name. Remember, I said I am a type-A personality. Need I say more?

There were certainly many challenges along the way for me, both in parenting and in marriage. Some of these challenges would have made my parents cringe if they had known about them. My children knew how to push buttons that my parents didn’t even know existed. Somewhere along the way I learned the lesson of persistence—maybe to a fault. I never gave up—on my children, on my marriage or on my career—even when the road was so rocky that, if I had been in a horse and buggy, I would certainly have been thrown out of the cart. On those occasions, to continue the metaphor, I guess you could say that I stepped out of the cart to lighten the load, or to help lift the cart over the rocks, and then kept on walking or riding until I reached the desired destination. Like Paul Harvey, to tell the rest of the story, I must add that ultimately, my marriage ended in divorce. After 27 years, my husband decided to pursue a lifestyle that did not include me. Because of the high expectations I had always had for myself, this divorce was one of the greatest disappointments in my life. But, I have adjusted and moved on. (More on this topic at a later time.)

So, here I am, age 63, and basically I am still living my life in accordance with that legacy left to me by my parents, in addition to a few on-the-job lessons I learned the hard way. Parents have the potential for so much influence on their children. I wonder if my parents knew to what degree each of those daily acts and decisions would eventually influence the direction in my life. At any age, it’s a good question to ask —what legacy am I leaving to those that follow me? How will I be remembered?

An Exercise in Looking Back

As we age, we unconsciously follow in our parents’ footsteps in so many ways. I have been fortunate to have had parents who served as good role models to me in almost every aspect of my life. My parents entered a wonderful retirement / continuing-care community at the ages of 89 and 93. After they had been there for one year (and coincidentally three months before my mother passed away), my mother requested that all of the siblings (her four children) come to their new home to participate with her and my dad in a one day workshop designed to help the “over 80 crowd” find meaning in their twilight years. None of us knew that my mother was so near the end of her life. She was a wise and somewhat sly woman. Somehow, in her wisdom or intuition, she knew that this would be a good way for us all to spend some meaningful and quality time together. As children, we took turns working with our parents on various assigned activitites. One of the most rewarding activities of that day was sitting with my father, helping him to recreate a timeline of his life. In particular, we looked at his life by decades, and reflected upon the major events and meaningful memories of his life as a husband, father and professional.

According to the workshop leader, instead of focusing on our aches and pains and all those things that our bodies may no longer be capable of doing, this is the time in our life to focus on our spiritual lives. If we are lucky enough to maintain our cognitive functioning, we can use this time for reflection and for examination of our inner life, something that we may have been too busy to spend much time with in the earlier years. More than once, after my dad began his physical decline when he was well into the latter part of his tenth decade, he kept asking us or wondering aloud, “I just wonder why God is keeping me alive. I wish I knew what the purpose is.”

My father was a hard worker, a highly respected man in the community, a very selfless person who would have considered it not only egotistical but a waste of time to spend time thinking about himself. What a pleasure it was to have those few hours to sit with him and to help him make a timeline of his life. It was hard for him because it just was not in his nature to focus on himself. I had to keep reminding him that God was keeping him with us so that he would have this time to be mindful of where he had made contributions; to look for patterns in his life; and to prepare himself for the life to come.

Dad had always liked to reminisce about growing up on the farm; about the sacrifices his family made by sending him to high school; about his life at the university when he worked on a dairy farm and also made the wrestling team. He told us how there was no time for fooling around on the farm and that his dad, my grandfather, never allowed any “monkey-business,” as he used to call it.

As we looked back on my dad’s life, it’s true that there was very little “monkey-business.” He was reminded of the many young men he had mentored as a 4-H leader; of the multitude of mutual acts of kindness and devotion he had shown to and received from his own four children and 5 grandchildren; and of the love of his wife for 60 years. My dad never expected anything in return for all he did to help his family, friends and community. There was no doubt to me that the world was a better place because of his presence. Of course, in his typically modest way, he never acknowledged any of this to me or to anyone. But, in my heart, I like to think that he got a glimpse of his real value and that he took time to be thankful for his own gifts.

If you are wondering how to spend that empty day in your retirement, why not try the same exercise? Map out your life in decades. Ask yourself what were the formative experiences of those decades that helped make you who you are today. You will probably laugh, cry and be astonished at all the marvelous memories that come flooding back.

Good advice from an expert

One of my favorite quotes from Gail Rentsch's book Smart Women Don't Retire--They Break Free, is the following: "For instance, if you are a type-A personality, leave blocks of unscheduled time in your calendar for just daydreaming or doing whatever pops into your mind, and avoid making plans in advance to fill that time." (Rentsch, p. 124)

This advice speaks to me. After 34 years of never having a moment to even think about daydreaming, I love the fact that someone with expertise is telling me that it's okay to have some days where you don't have your calendar filled. It's okay to have the downtime. One of my best daydream times is the period in the morning, after I have first awakened. Because I have a cat and a dog, I am obliged to get up early and feed / take them out. But then, if it's really an ungodly hour (i.e., for me anything before 7 a.m.), I go back to bed and do some of my best daydreaming, or as I like to call it "fuzzy thinking." I sometimes write whole paragraphs in my head or imagine whole conversations that characters in a novel might speak.

During the summer, another time I engage in very productive daydreaming is when I am stretched out on my new chaise lounge on the screened-in deck on the back of the house, surrounded by tall oaks, listening to the quiet sounds of summer. Today was a perfect 80 degree low-humidity day. The silence of a warm summer day always puts me in a mood where I feel in touch with my surroundings. The crickets were chirping; the lawn mowers were humming; the birds were singing. It doesn't get much better than that.

When I was working, it was rare that I could spend part of my Sunday engaging in such "non-productive" behavior, actually enjoying some of the nicer aspects of my home. I have always been a Type-A personality and I'm still haunted by that achievement-oriented side of myself that whispers to me "What did you do today that was productive?" "What did you do to make the world a better place?"

Today I can answer that question very honestly and not feel guilty: I went to church. I sat on the porch and meditated. I read several chapters in one of the books on my reading list. I wrote on my blog.

Signing off and waiting to hear from you . . .

Breaking Free

This is my second posting. I have had two people visit my site, thanks to my announcing it on my Facebook page-- my son who is nowhwere near the age of retirement and my friend Pat who is at that age but is still working and making a great contribution to her field. So let me start by saying that all of us can have useful experiences to share regarding this idea of retirement, whether or not you have already retired. My son, who is very wise for his 30 + years, may even have some gems of wisdom to share with us older women. (His retirement gift to me was a great book: Smart Women Don't Retire: They Break Free by Gail Rentsch). So, let's just say that I welcome all viewpoints on the topic of this blog.

Most articles or books that I've read indicate that in order to have a successful (and I define successful by meaningful and fulfilling) retirement, there are three areas that we need to address and in which we need to remain active. These areas are cognitive challenges/ continual learning; physical activity or wellness; and social interactions. These three areas will be the focus for my postings, although I reserve the right to ramble from time to time.

When I retired, I was truly desperate for time to myself; time without the burden of overwhelming responsibilities from work; time where no one other than myself was setting expectations for me. I was ecstatic, euphoric, elated--all those good words. It doesn't mean that I hated my job or the people I worked with. It just means that I was over-burdened and no longer was happy finding my main fulfillment in life at work. I knew there was more to life and that I had other skills and talents that could also be cultivated, but I needed time. It was a major life-change that I made very comfortably.

I had three big goals that I wanted to pursue when I retired. I was passionate about them and had no qualms whatsoever about how I was going to spend my time. The literature also says that it's a good idea to have some idea before you retire about how you want to spend your time. This seems especially important for men who find most of their personal identity through their work. My goals were to read as many books as I could (and to find some book clubs in which to discuss them); to work on my physical fitness; and to begin examining the craft of writing. In the process, I was also hoping to meet new people who shared my interests. I also made a vow to myself that I would not volunteer for any new committee or leadership roles in any of the clubs that I am a member of. I've been there done that and I made up a new word to describe myself: commitophobe.

So far, in 13 months, I have read approximately 25 books, joined two book clubs, lost 10 pounds, and read multiple books and magazines about the craft of writing. I have tried to do regular journaling also but have not been as regular about this as I should be. I don't like to be too self-disciplined and make myself do the same thing every day. That's too much like work. I am still indulging myself in the freedom of the unexpected urge--catching a classic movie in the middle of the day; spending quality time with my aging dog and cat; sitting on my front porch and doing a cross-word puzzle; or even doing a little housework.

As I am now embarking on year 2 of my retirement, my goals are changing just a bit. But more on that the next time. Please let me know your thoughts on any of the subjects I've mentioned in this posting.

Finding my way

The original purpose of my blog is to share with other women who have reached "a certain age" ideas about how to recreate yourself after retiring from your lifetime profession. The title of the blog comes from French and is roughly translated as "middle aged." I prefer the French expression "a certain age" because it has a little more of a positive and somewhat mysterious connotation, don't you think? I'm all about trying to put a positive "spicy" spin on things. I am 63 years old and have recently retired from a career in the field of education. Every day I am learning something new about how to live a good life as a retiree and as (even though I hate this term) a senior citizen. It doesn't just happen. You do have to work at it. I have spent my life working hard developing a successful career, raising children, taking care of aging parents. Now it is my time for me. I don't want to be self-centered. That is not what this is about. It is about discovering other potential that has been locked down inside myself all those years when I was doing all those things that I was supposed to do.

I plan to share what I have learned or am in the process of learning and hope to hear back from many other women (and men) who have reached the same time of life. I find this stage of my life to be one of the most exciting and potentially fruitful periods of my life. The whole wide world is open to me. I feel like every day is a gift. I want to continue to be a productive member of society and I'm still finding my way on that. For me, writing is one way "I find my way." Even if you are not yet retired, this blog could help you (and me) to make plans for retirement and /or to age gracefully.