I am more than ready to retire.
I am two weeks away from turning sixty-five.
Please spare me the “age is just a number” pith.
I am two weeks away from turning sixty-five. I have not yet moved far enough beyond shock to know how I really feel about that.
Eons ago when I was young the vast majority of people turning sixty-five retired. It was mostly synonymous. The sixty-fifth birthday party was closely followed by the retirement party. Medicare and Social Security were both available at sixty-five. The age did seem to hold more weight in terms of being “old.” I guess culturally retirement and old age were achieved together.
So, as of April 1st I became a Medicare recipient.
Whoa.
I am not, however, eligible for full Social Security benefits until the age of sixty-six and six months.
I do not seem to have a particular feeling about that, though it may be in the same shock-container as is my upcoming digit.
I do not write until I am willing to be honest and authentic. So let me be real with you.
I have for the past few months seriously contemplated retiring, full SS benefits or not. I know that I have made prudent choices that would allow for a more modest yet secure living situation with or without a fulltime salary. My husband is retired, or more accurately, disabled. He does receive benefits that far exceed what I will ever qualify for.
Having said that, those facts are not the issue when I contemplate retiring.
I am currently employed fulltime. My “job” is really my vocation. It is clearly for me a calling. My quest for spiritual awakening is what is most important for me hands down. Leaving a legacy of love and compassion is my highest priority. The fact that I am paid to apply and demonstrate my highest calling has been and remains remarkable. I get paid to “God!”
I get paid to “God!”
That is crazy wild. Me. Imperfect, sometimes unconscious, often unskillful me.
Wow.
Now, there are aspects of what I do that I would prefer not to do. During these two long years of pandemic and distancing I mentally quit my job several times a week. I also knew I would never leave a congregation during such trying and tumultuous times. That would never have happened. It would have been so far from my integrity I could not have lived with a decision to walk away.
Now that Covid seems to be subsiding, and I am turning sixty-five, revisiting the option of retiring has more concretely surfaced.
I have made no definitive decision. Yet.
The inquiry is proving to be remarkably fruitful, even two weeks out from the leap to full senior citizen status.
I have reformulated what retirement means for me.
Whether or not I continue to remain in fulltime employment I am retiring from many of the stresses I have placed upon myself. I am clear that I have nothing left I need to prove. I am retiring from other people’s opinions and evaluations of me. Professionally. Personally. I am through with the” trying to fit in-be approved of” hustle. It exhausts me. Though I know it originates in me I also use the mirror of how others react-respond to my expression as a way of becoming more autonomous and self-referred. More inner directed. Stronger if not always wiser. I have reached a point which for me came with age that I know deeply that your opinion of me is none of my business.
I am finding a freedom with aging that I never dreamed was possible. I thought the opportunities would lessen. Physically I suppose they have. Not spiritually. Not emotionally. Not in my vocational expression. I am becoming more alive and more expansive. More vital and passionate. With less time left I am far more intentional about how I use it. And way more grateful. Grateful to still be here. Grateful to have expanding awareness and choice. My internal possibilities are soaring.
Foundational to what I do is what I am. The more awake to what I am the more passionately and directly I imbue what I do.
And I cannot retire from what I am.
So, I am not waiting until my birthday to retire the self-diminishing stories that remain. I am not waiting until after I blow out the candles to breathe in the breadth of what I am. I am not waiting to open my presents to give the gift of me. Full out. Out loud. Bold. Fearless. If not fearless not held back by fear.
I know the form of my vocation will change. It will happen regardless of Medicare, Social Security, age, or intellectual decision. I trust Life will show me when to end this current modality and flow into the next. I truly, deeply trust that.
And I also know that I am retiring from effort. From outer identification. From fitting in. From your opinions and more importantly from my own. You can tell stories about me and I remain free.
Not that ultimately, I need to, but I have earned the right to decide my experience. I have worked hard. On myself. Whether or not that was the wisest choice it has been the choice I repeatedly made.
I have regrets for sure. Yet I am crystal clear that I have done the very best I could. And that is good enough for me.
So, consider me retired.
From the job of trying to be me.
