The Task at Hand

"So, how are things? How you doing?" I am asked this frequently. A metaphor for the situation is that I am struggling to climb to the ridge, or even to the peak of a majestic mountain in the Sierra. I can remember being above 8,000 feet, both in snow and on the granite in the summer. Every single step toward the crest gets to be a lot of work. Higher, higher....one step at a time, one foot in front of the other. My body gains weight; it starts to feel like it weighs a thousand pounds. I glance upward from time to time—a quick glance. It doesn't help. It's better to watch the ground and....step, pause, pant, step, pause, pant..... I do believe I will finally get there. I have to believe that. 

Nothing Much Ever Happens

On the front page of the Wall Street Journal today, July 20, there was a story about mens' groups that gather to banter—no agenda, dues, membership, protocol, or anything. For the most part, nothing much ever happens, and that's exactly the way the participants want it. It's refreshing. There are so many pressures to do and accomplish that the banter gatherings are like an oasis in the desert....or an igloo in a storm. Many of the free-from groups come together once a week, some less often. It has been my good fortune to participate in a couple such groups (one at a time) over the last 25 years. I wouldn't trade a minute of the time spent.

One group started unintentionally on a boat of mine. Out of the blue, I invited four salty guys over for a brown-bag lunch on a November, Friday noon long ago. Wind, rain, or shine, the gathering continues even today, nineteen years later. It has moved into the harbor masters' office (I sold my boat), but the beat goes on. The subjects touched on over the years would fill a library. A story at a time, WW II was relived several times over. Most of the guys had been involved. Interestingly, politics was seldom a subject. Boats, boating, and sailing were popular, of course, as were various phony rumors occasionally initiated by the group and fed out into the town. One of the best was that an Indian tribe has obtained permission to build a casino in the empty gravel pit up overlooking the town. Once started, the word traveled fast.

Keep Your Mojo in Retirement

It takes many years of sustained effort to build one’s mojo, but it can be lost in retirement. The loss is one of the hardest parts of changing gears as one comes face to face with a new menu of reference points about what to do, when. The old mojo seems to melt down as one’s practiced arsenal of habits, connections, moxie, and place in the scheme of things dissipates. So, what can one do?

STAY IN THE GAME. Don’t retire, at least not fully. If you still get satisfaction from what you do, continue. I know doctors, lawyers, actors, and teachers who just keep going. 

SHIFT TO A NEW FIELD OF PLAY WHERE YOUR MOJO IS VALUED. Volunteering is a common remedy for people who have had management or administrative careers. Some retirees start new businesses in which their experiences get exercises.

CONSTRUCT A NEW MOJO. Become competent in something fresh. It is possible to turn the page of your life and start a new chapter. As a very successful rabbi who left the pulpit said when his many friends questioned his decision: “I am starting Act II.” He committed himself to writing…and some years later made the comment: “Who knows, maybe there will be an Act III, too.”

DO NOTHING. Don’t worry about your mojo. Look back on it with acceptance, if not pride, but recognize it is—or was—career specific, and it was most likely assembled on the basis of role models, expectations, and the external, objective world in which you lived when you were young. Retirement could be the time in which you explore a neglected, internal, subjective world that, according to many accounts, is probably rich indeed. Meanwhile, your mojo will live on as part of your history.