I don't view retirement as the end of something, but rather as the beginning of something else--a new adventure. I like where it is leading me. I am rediscovering parts of myself that I loved when I was a teenager and young adult. Interests that have been suppressed because there was little to no time to pursue them.
When I'm at parties and social events, some people ask me why I retired early. I tell them that I got tired of the bullshit spouted at the departmental/management level. I got tired of listening to it and having to defend it. I got tired of talking about the same issues and problems ad nauseam. I got tired of no solutions, only talk. Talk, talk, and more talk. And having to go to meetings to talk about everything just a bit more. Meetings make the days go round. But not for me. I just wanted to get off the merry-go-round. So, I did. I was in my late fifties when I got tired of the bullshit. There are a few people who have commented that I could have kept on working until retirement age. My answer? I could have, but I didn't want to. I did what I wanted to do--leave. I left behind a work world that no longer suited me or me it; I left behind a work world that did nothing for me anymore. I got tired of giving my all (and more) and watching those who gave half as much get ahead or get the same rewards (salaries and perks) as those who worked much harder. I got tired of incompetent leaders telling us all what to do and draining the annual budgets with their bloated salaries. My former public sector workplace could have gotten rid of at least three levels of leadership, and then they would have had the long-sought after money to do some of the things they need and want to do. But that won't ever happen. Not in Norway, and not in public sector workplaces, which are top-heavy with administrative positions.
Once you see through something or someone, it is very difficult to go back to pretending that all is fine. And yet we do that for so much of our lives, live on the surface and act 'as if', in order for things to function smoothly, especially at work. And that's ok, until it isn't. By the time one reaches a certain age, the desire for a more honest way of living is something that can no longer be suppressed, at any cost.
I keep in touch and socialize with my former colleagues several times a year. Some will remain in my life, and some will not. That's ok. Some older colleagues need to keep pretending that they are happy working. And some few are happy working, so more power to them. I want the younger ones to be happy in their jobs. It's no fun to want to retire when you are in your late forties/early fifties and still have twenty-some odd years to go. Best to love your work for as long as you can. The problems start when you no longer love it and when you can no longer 'cover' over or suppress your unhappiness and dissatisfaction.
I like my free time, and I like having alone time. I like being able to choose when I want to socialize and when I want to be by myself. I like not having to be 'on' all the time.
My happy place is my garden. God gave me that gift right at the point when I got tired of most everything else. It reinvigorated me in a way that nothing else has or could. I am forever grateful for what my garden has given me--grace in all forms.
I love being outdoors. I love to go out walking, be out in nature. When I am in New York, my friends and I usually end up visiting one or another garden or park. There are plenty of them in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley where I grew up. Here in Oslo, I walk along the Akerselva river or along the city streets until I find a small park. It doesn't matter for the most part where I end up, just that I am outdoors.
I've decided to take some online courses in horticulture and plant science via the New York Botanical Garden, for no other reason than to learn. To learn. Not to compete with anyone else, not to win a medal, not to be the best at anything. Simply to learn.
I am relearning Spanish using the online program Duolingo. It's free and it's good. It all depends on how much time you put into it. I started last December and use half an hour each day to learn and relearn Spanish. I have six years of Spanish between high school and college. I got so far in college that I could write long term papers about Spanish poets (Antonio Machado comes to mind). When I read what I wrote then, I marvel at how much Spanish I actually understood. But I need to get better at speaking the language. Because I want to visit Spain with my husband at some point, and I want to be able to converse simply with the Spanish people.
I love the New York Times crossword puzzles and games, specifically the daily crossword puzzle, Wordle, and Spelling Bee. They keep me on my toes from an English language point of view. They challenge my brain and that's a good thing. Living in another country can wreak havoc with your retention of English language vocabulary. Wordle and Spelling Bee challenge me to remember my English vocabulary.
I'm reading different authors and understanding that some authors that have been pushed as excellent are authors I find average at best--Joan Didion and Alice Munro come to mind. Didion does little for me (I've written about her before), and Munro is frustrating to read. Her short stories always end in an odd way; odd doesn't have to be a bad thing, but in her case, it is, because the stories rarely offer any resolution. Some few do, but most don't. Some people may say that's life, that there's no resolution for most of what involves us. Maybe it is, but I don't want to read a lot of stories that end in an ambiguous or frustrating way. Winning the Nobel Prize in Literature (Munro) is no guarantee that you will like the author's writing. So much I've realized.
H.P. Lovecraft comes to mind as a very good author. Imaginative writing, eerie settings, a feeling of sinisterness. He's a horror and fantasy writer, a very sophisticated one. Not a lot of blood and gore. More the suggestion of the nasty things that can or will happen, the creepy things in dark corners of one's mind or room, or the appearance of monsters that will make your blood run cold. He isn't big on conversation in his stories, but the moods he creates are intense and memorable. His writing gets under your skin; at least it got under mine. I think he is a far better writer than either Didion or Munro, who have not gotten under my skin at all, but literary pundits will tell me that I can't compare genres. I'm doing so anyway. I think he is a very good writer.
