ght (c) 2009 Mary Lloyd
Lots of us have delayed or entirely scuttled the idea of giving up work because of the financial meltdown. There’s just not going to be enough money to be able to kick back for good. We feel “denied” with this development. Gypped out of what should rightfully be ours. Victims of a cruel world and an unfair system.
Take another look. The assumptions we’ve been using about what this time of life is meant to be are way short of accurate. That we are being forced to get beyond them and customize what we decide to do next may be one of the very best blessings to come out of these hard times.
Let’s start by noticing the company we’re in if we elect not to retire. Literally the richest people in the world have chosen that route. These billionaires understand something the rest of us would do well to learn: Having enough money is not the entire story when it comes to how to live the last third of your life well.
“Sure,” you’re muttering. “They have choices. They can do what they want. I don’t get to decide.” Don’t be silly. You’ve been deciding all along—to spend more than you earn, to maintain unhealthy habits that propel you into our off-the-charts expensive health care system, to do work you aren’t good at that keeps you from building a core competence of value—and a sense of satisfaction on what you get done, or, worst of all, to do work that is so unfulfilling that you’re most rewarding thought is counting the years until you can quit into retirement.
Get on the wagon, dearie. Nobody but you set you up so you “have” to work.
Then, after you accept you’ve created your future on those terms, pat yourself on the back. You’re ahead of the game.
As a nation, we’ve been surviving on a very primitive dream: Work hard until a designated age, then retire and do whatever you want. The “whatever you want” is perceived as sort of an extended vacation. It’s very length is supposed to soothe all the bruises we endured to get far enough to retire.
You may decide to clean the garage. You may decide to babysit your grandkids. You may decide to travel to Antarctica—or into space. But the decisions are all expected to be based on what’s personally pleasing at the moment.
“Personally pleasing” won’t get you very far. And that’s what the rich guys know that we need to learn. This lesson should not be saved for the last third of life, but somehow, we’ve gotten off track on mastering it early in our lives. You need more than your own comfort to have a good life. So if you can’t retire, or even better if you don’t want to retire, be happy. It’s one more chance to make your life one you love, one that has meaning.
President Obama put it this way in an open letter to his daughters on the eve of his inauguration: “It is only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you will realize your true potential.” It won’t be 100% fun—even kids on the playground fall down and get booboos. But finding– and living from–your sense of purpose will be a source of joy that energizes you and makes your days exciting.
Most of us have been in the yoke for all of our working lives. But rather than having our wagons hitched to the stars, we’re hitched to a daily grind as a way to pay the bills. We’re abusing ourselves by doing work we don’t like and putting salve on the resulting wounds with the assurance that “When this is over, it will be worth it because I will get to retire.”
Don’t’ bet on it. Unless you have done a good job of figuring out what’s important and what you uniquely want to do about it, things are going to get boring after a while. That seems to be what the rich guys have figured out. Retirement isn’t all that great. If you’re doing what you love, retiring makes no sense whatsoever. So if you have to work, find what you love and do that for pay
What makes the very wealthy continue to work when the money they’ve amassed makes it completely possible to relax into a permanent life of ease? They have things to do and the vision to do them. They aren’t buying in on the idea that “doing nothing” is a reward.
Why are we?
By: Mary Lloyd
