I’ve recently retired, which has taken me through unknown and sometimes challenging terrain. I’ve learned a lot in the process—most importantly, that a map would have been really helpful! However, not having one, I had to find my way through a lot of trial and error. But now, I’ve created a detailed map of my journey through this strange new place called Retirement. Come with me, if you dare, and we’ll explore this landscape full of traps and treasures, beauty and bogs. There might be places that you recognize from your own experience or places that you will visit in the future.
One of the first things I noticed was that the compass showing my orientation to North seemed to spin. It no longer pointed in directions that I knew. Yet when I tried to go where I was used to traveling, the way felt blocked, my access denied. And if I used my old compass to explore pathways that felt exciting, I ended up going in circles or finding other barriers in the way. It felt a bit like having vertigo—which interestingly enough, I’ve also gotten a taste of recently. Yikes! The only way to stop the room from spinning was to close my eyes and be absolutely still—to get grounded. Similarly, to find the compass of my new map, I came to realize that my “true North” was, in fact, my purpose in life, my soul mission.
Years ago I had done some very deep and detailed work on identifying my mission through workshops with Alan Seale based on his book Soul Mission * Life Vision. This was an extremely useful process and provided a great deal of clarity and direction in how I’ve lived and the choices I’ve made. Your soul mission is NOT your job, but rather, the energy underneath everything you do, the “why of the what.” My soul mission—I recharge human hearts—informed my professional work, yet it was also an integral part of my relationships, my interests, my hobbies, everything.
So, now armed with a working compass, I crossed Retirement Bridge.
However, it didn’t take long for a Detour to appear that could take me back to Career Land, although in a different job. This was certainly tempting from the standpoint of returning to the familiar, but it also seemed to miss the point. Yes, there were several options that I could do, but did I really want to? Furthermore, my own doubts were getting in the way—what if they think I’m too old, or over qualified, or too expensive? So, I decided to stay on the path of retirement.
Shortly, I found myself at the Forced Busy-ness Industrial Park, a factory complex that specializes in things like treadmills and hamster wheels. It kept me busy with all kinds of projects that I didn’t have time for while I was working. It filled my empty schedule, yet it quickly grew tedious and exhausting. Staying busy so I didn’t have to think about how the unfamiliar place I’d landed was not very fulfilling. It just felt wrong.
On the other side of the path was Lethargy Swamp. It was quiet, even peaceful, and to be honest, after a lot of unnecessary busy-ness, it felt good to do nothing for a change. I realized that I could actually read for pleasure (what?!). I could take a nap if I wanted (who knew?). I could just drift along idly with my thoughts (aaahhh!). It was great…for awhile. But all too soon I became aware of a new feeling—something I hadn’t experienced in years. I was bored. And then, as I started looking around for stimulation, I discovered large patches of quicksand and some rather hungry alligators. Time to get out of the swamp.
As I made my way further along the path I soon found myself in a desert. I’ve always loved the wild beauty of a desert landscape, and in my younger days I enjoyed hiking in various desert settings. But this was different. This was The Desert of Disappointment where things, people, and ideas that I had trusted for years started to let me down. Promises were made and then ignored. Networks and professional relationships that I had carefully built were fading away like a mirage. I felt sunburned and parched. I staggered away, and then saw something green in the distance.
As I got closer, I realized that it was a lush forest—The Forest of Confusing Choices. The vegetation was thick and the shade was cool and inviting. I was amazed at all of the different species crowded together. I was grateful to be out of the desert and surrounded by such variety. I could go this way or that; I could try any number of new paths. There were so many options! Too many. I started to feel a little claustrophobic and “lost in the woods” (as well as other irritating metaphors like not being able to see the forest for the trees!) After a few wrong turns I stumbled out of the forest and arrived at…
The Land of Feared Irrelevance. As I approached the border, I quickly knew that I didn’t want to cross. It was too scary. Was I actually no longer relevant? Did I have nothing more to offer? I knew in my soul this wasn’t true, but what if the world was no longer buying what I was selling? Do I go back to the forest and bang my head against the trees? Do I find a new product? Support a cause? Become a hermit? I backed away from the border and eventually found my way to the clear waters of Lake Huami.
– to be continued in Part 2 –
-Johnathon
Johnathon Pape is a director, writer, and coach/consultant with over 50 years of experience in the performing arts and higher education within the US and abroad. He wrote Living the Dream: Building a Sustainable Career in the Performing Arts with acclaimed mezzo-soprano Kirstin Chávez. He received a Fulbright to the Czech Republic in 1994 and is a long-standing member of SDC—the Stage Directors and Choreographer’s Society—and AGMA—the American Guild of Musical Artists. (www.johnathonpape.com)