When Memories Exceed Dreams

I caught up with a former colleague recently who had been let go earlier this year from the company that had employed us both, me for 11 years, her for more than 20. Hers was one of those typical and unfortunate stories you hear so frequently in Corporate America. You work hard, do your job well, and feel you’ve earned some level of reciprocal loyalty, only to have internal politics rear its ugly head and hasten your demise. 

Like so many people who get shaken out of the business world, voluntarily or otherwise, her life’s a lot better now. She’s working at the consulting company her husband runs, works from home, and is spending much more time with her 13-year-old daughter (and her husband). She’s happy, healthy and at peace. 

She asked how I’m doing in my retirement, now nearly 10 years in, joking that she can’t picture me just puttering around the house in slippers all day, and she’s right. I don’t. 

But I’m also not one of those people who brags about how they’re busier in retirement than they ever were when working. In fact, when people ask, as they so often do, how I “stay busy” in retirement, I always point out that I’m intentionally not busy, just active doing the things I like and find fulfilling. I retired because I was done with “business” and had no desire to replace it with “busy-ness.” I have another friend to thank for that. 

When I retired from the corporate world in the spring of 2015, I reached out to a handful of friends, colleagues and mentors to ask if they had any advice as I embarked on this next leg of life’s journey. Most of the advice was standard issue fare, like, “Don’t make any big decisions for six months,” or “Find a new hobby,” or “Learn a new skill.” 

One wise former boss, however, himself retired for about a year, gave me two suggestions that stood out from the rest. First, he told me to set goals for my retirement, pointing out that up until that point, my own retirement was obviously a big life goal. So, now that I had met that goal, he said, be intentional about what I wanted to achieve in the balance of my life. 

Second, he told me to create ground rules and structure on how I’d spend my time and strictly adhere to those ground rules. My friend, who was running his family’s research foundation in his retirement, said he blocked off Wednesdays and Fridays as “no meetings days,” as an example. 

While he didn’t explicitly describe his advice this way, I think what he was really explaining was a way to avoid the two biggest trapsmany newly retired people seem to fall into: trying to replicate the busy-ness of their former work life and thus ending up with an overscheduled life like the Platte River, a mile wide and an inch deep; or listlessly meandering through life generally happy but without much purpose, spending more time looking back than ahead. 

As the leadership author and pastor Andy Stanley once said, “When your memories exceed your dreams, the end is near.” 

So, I dutifully made my list of retirement goals and ground rules, and nearly ten years later, I have to admit it was an extremely helpful exercise, despite having abandoned some of those goals early on while generally adhering to the ground rules. 

First, I made way too many goals, 14 of them. The ones that have had the biggest impact were actually the simplest ones: slow down, get healthier, read more,write more,help others. Most of the goals I abandoned were tied to an ill-conceived consulting business I had started right after retiring. It was actually a successful endeavor but had me working and traveling at pre-retirement levels, so I bagged it after a few months and recalibrated. 

The ground rule I’veadhered to religiously for my entire retirement is my mornings are mine. I don’t take any meetings or conference calls before noon and spend each morning exercising, catching up on the news, meditating, and journaling. To me, the biggest benefit of retirement is the freedom and control it can bring to your life, and I’m fortunate to take full advantage of those gifts. 

When I was still working, an older gentleman who worked for me reached retirement age and rode off into the sunset, only to die within a year. He had some lifelong health issues, but it was unexpected and truly heartbreaking. 

A few months later, on the eve of my own retirement, I was having drinks with a colleague who was also contemplating retiring. Financially, he didn’t have to work any longer but was reluctant to leave anytime soon, saying he still had a number of things he wanted to accomplish in his job. 

Thinking about my colleague who had passed away, I asked him: “If you knew you only had a year to live, what would you do?” He said, “I’d retire.” 

I replied: “How can you be certain you have a year to live?” 

He looked at me and didn’t say anything. He retired a couple months later. He’s alive and well.