Get Back to Work

Awkwardly Acknowledging What I am Missing in Retirement

Three years and three months into my retirement, I made the difficult decision to go back to work.

Actually, it wasn’t a difficult decision at all. I did it with a joyous sense of anticipation.

The only challenge was that I didn’t know what I had rejoined the workforce to do. Fortunately, I knew that British actor Benedict Cumberbatch (a personal friend of mine) also worked at this employer, so he identified the facilities person who was calling to set up my office.

I also got some insight when I tried to throw away the annoying handful of chocolate candies I kept carrying around and the nice woman in the pinstripe smock and white hat told me that the nearest garbage can was in a room where similarly dressed people were working in what looked like an industrial kitchen. Ah, a food company!

But I knew all my questions would be answered when I met with former President Lyndon Johnson, who was now working as head of HR for this company. I was debating whether to ask LBJ about the Kennedy assassination, but I decided we should probably focus the conversation on my salary and benefits package.

Wait, what?

Why, after three years of retirement, am I dreaming about going back to work?! (And, perhaps more concerning, with famous people I don’t know?!)

Maybe because, after three years of retirement, the novelty of retirement is wearing off and I’m increasingly aware of what I left behind when I retired.

Well, this is Awkward

This is an awkward post to write, because I know that there are literally millions of people who want what I have: free time, minimal supervision, and as much financial flexibility as one could reasonably hope to have in a financially uncertain world. I love that part of retirement, and I don’t take that for granted.

But being three-plus years into retirement means the euphoria of not working anymore is fading. The naps I dreamt about taking while sitting in staff meetings are now available to me literally at any time. I don’t have to make up an excuse to take walk. What was once an enticing imagined perfect world of retirement is now Day 1,189 in my new reality.

As the mythic glow of anticipated retirement is fading, I can more clearly see the things I enjoyed about work that I now miss.

Again, I recognize everyone’s pre-retirement experience is different. I loved the work I did and (very nearly all) the people with whom I worked at the end of my professional career. I didn’t leave work with a slammed door, but with a deep exhale of exhaustion. I retired because I wanted to pursue different things: publishing and marketing a book; rekindling relationships with friends and family; and growing in my faith. And now that my book is published, relationships are restored, and I’m spiritually mature, it’s easier to reflect on what I am feeling in retirement. (OK, maybe there’s still work to do in at least one of those areas.)

The List of What We Lose

In a brilliant Substack post recently, Dan Haylett of Humans vs. Retirement put into words the losses we experience in retirement. We can lose our identity, yes, but more significant for me was losing things like occupational mastery, membership in a tribe, and tracking forward progress. Thinking about the move to retirement through those lenses makes it a much more complex and nuanced transition.

With the newness of retirement receding, I can be more honest about grieving what I’ve lost while also looking with clearer expectations to see where God wants me to go next.

Fearing the Promised Land

This situation reminds me of the story of the spies in Numbers 13 and 14. God told Moses to send 12 men to check out the Promised Land before the Israelites entered. Ten men came back and said the people and the obstacles were too big and scary. Their anxiety prompted the people to wonder if going back to slavery in Egypt was a better option. But Joshua and Caleb said, “Dudes! God’s got this! We can do it!” (Numbers 14:6-9, negligently paraphrased).

I need to acknowledge my situation – maybe even grieve for what is no longer – but hold a Joshua and Caleb attitude. I don’t want to get too nostalgic for the past that I miss what God is ready to provide next. To (sorta) quote Caleb, “God’s got this!”

That’s why I paused at one of the losses that Haylett identified: the loss of optionality, the chance to pivot to a new career. Retirement is almost, by definition, about the chance to pivot, maybe not to a new job, per se, but to a new “vocation.” That may be volunteering, investing in future generations, or, like I do, writing new Substack posts every two to 14 months. As Haylett describes later in his post, we have an opportunity to “invent our own nexts,” which can help us move on to something better. (And I am seriously intrigued if I can experience in those new things some of the benefits that I am apparently still missing from work).

What’s Next

Just as the spies described different Promised Land perceptions to Moses, my next destination brings its own uncertainty and sometimes conflicting perspectives (within me!). In my case, my “next” may mean refinements to the things God has already given me to do in years One through Three, rather than some dramatic new endeavor. Or, maybe I am meant to learn how to play the accordion.

Either way, it’s clear that I need to spend more time seeking God’s presence and direction than I spend fearing (or anxiously rushing to) what lies ahead.

Because, based on my dream sequence, the pull of the familiar and the beneficial aspects of my work apparently are still strong.

I mean, if those things are strong enough to entice LBJ back to the office, I don’t think it’s wise to underestimate their power.