Fascinating column. Thank you. I am 76 and retired from financial marketing communications, but not writing fiction and the occasional polemic. A recent discussion on FaceBook showed me that I have appealed these judgments, with some success. Around menopause, I felt myself subject to attacks of anger. When they passed, I found myself with much more courage than I knew what to do with. It's been percolating since. Recently, on that FaceBook discussion, I realized that I no longer gave too many damns about the reprimands I seem to have spent my life amassing. Perhaps because I see in the current wave of antiSemitism a need to protect and counter. Perhaps because time is short. And probably and most likely, because I just got damned well fed up and I am going to name and shame events and people for being judge, jury, and jailer. No more of that, or at least, not very much. It is surprising how much more respect I feel I am gaining.
Aloha Monica, Mahalo for writing this and articulating what it's like for you during your retirement season. I just retired @ the beginning of this year and have been slow traveling visiting all 4 of my grown adult children and their families in 4 different states. Some of the experiences you've shared in this essay of yours, I can relate to as a newly retiree. I've been blessed with 12 grandchildren age ranging from 22 years to 17 months. So, my visit @ each stop is sometimes loud to very quiet. It's definitely a transition for me; I knew that once I hung up my "bump-n-grind," hat @ the beginning of the year. I consider myself a non-traditional grandmother (my own personal definition), meaning I've been a "hands-on" grandma since my first grandchild was born 22 years ago. The culture I grew up in and how I was raised, that saying, "it takes a village..." is LITERAL in my life and from where I come from. I am now helping raise my 17-month-old grandchild (because I want to). Now that I'm not working 3-4 jobs @ a time, this is my time to choose what I want, when I want and who I want to be around with and around me, w/out feeling physically drained. Yes, retirement is something else...a mystery maybe for some, but for me, I started @ 62 while I still have my health and I'm still able to do for myself and have the daily strength to tend to my daily needs, as well as to the needs of my loved ones. At times I get those crappy voices in my head and if it's NOT bringing me peace of mind, I immediately squash that sh*t out by infusing my living environment w/positive energy and LOTS of sunlight and MORE love. My daily mantra, "everything is ALWAYS working out for me," coupled w/Reiki energy cleansing and healing works WONDERS and sets the tone each day for me. I wish you and all an abundance of love, light and happiness in your retirement season. Mahalo nui loa, Christine
Right, especially Susan LIVE from Mulberry St. What can we do? Whatever we can. Hire a hot, young Criminal Defense lawyer? If you have to. But NEVER plead guilty. And never give up. I am here in a "Desolate land, for Defiant People", not the Dismal Swamp in North Carolina/Virginia North of where I lived 12 years in the 50's and 60's on fantastic wonderlands of the USMC's Second Marine Wing. No, I retired ten years ago to the bone dry heat of the Anza-Borrego Desert, not the sultry humidity of the rivers, creeks and ocean shores. I have taken my rest, ten years of slow dry heat and wilderness so breath taking, surrounded by 7000 ft mountains, so isolated that you are forced to consider the coyotes and scorpions, and Big Horn Sheep as your only intimate partners.Now, 77, and still strong and willing. One 4 week long encounter with a G.I. assault, two weeks in hospital, two weeks more on three antibiotics at home, and I am done with wilderness life. My girl friend drove me to my assigned E.R. in Oceanside two hours to the West. My Long Beach daughter drove me home. My boyfriend of six years broke up with me two weeks before all this. And after six years of riding his devil's roller coaster, with multiple breakups and makeups, I resisted calling him for my second trip to the E.R. with complications from one of the antibiotics - profound muscle weakness(Levaquin). Powerful drug, wicked side effects. I debated with my two daughters, both at their in laws for the 4th of July(Boston and Miami). My girl friend was over in Palm Desert at her own medical procedure. I talked to my Pastor at church. I considered an Uber. I ended up driving myself to ther E.R. Easy-Peasy, I was weak and unsteady, but mentally sharp. No one on the roads out of Borrego. I drove slow, made many stops for toileting, and got to the ER. After that second admission, I did not drive home. I stayed next to the hospital, for one more day.
And independently, decided. I am done with the beauty, solitude, pleasure and freedom of hills where the Pacific Crest Trail starts. I am going back to the city! Instead of a huge custom house in the desert. I will sell and rent a small apartment near the sea. I will begin my next adventure where I spent my entire life- close to the ocean, again. Carlsbad, or Oceanside, North county San Diego, CA. I am leaving Borrego Springs, also north County San Diego, just the liminal back end of civilization. I can come back for visits, anytime I want. I am alive and free. And at times, my own false witness. But today, the truth is, I love life!!!!
Some posts like this one and by other retirees remind me of an apron my grandmother had after my grandfather retired, which had printed on it the questionably funny “Whoever heard of a retired housewife?” That is, as a woman, are you ever allowed to relinquish your responsibility toward your home, your family, or others? It’s a struggle even to feel the right to self-actualization or taking a break. Or like in the children’s novel The Secret Garden, the right to live in spite of what people say. I applaud your effort to break free from that ridiculous critical internal dialogue, I am myself also rediscovering a sense of possibilities that felt unallowed by discouraging voices (external or internalized). And yet there is part of me that doesn’t want to lose our interconnected family and neighborly relationships that keep
Fascinating column. Thank you. I am 76 and retired from financial marketing communications, but not writing fiction and the occasional polemic. A recent discussion on FaceBook showed me that I have appealed these judgments, with some success. Around menopause, I felt myself subject to attacks of anger. When they passed, I found myself with much more courage than I knew what to do with. It's been percolating since. Recently, on that FaceBook discussion, I realized that I no longer gave too many damns about the reprimands I seem to have spent my life amassing. Perhaps because I see in the current wave of antiSemitism a need to protect and counter. Perhaps because time is short. And probably and most likely, because I just got damned well fed up and I am going to name and shame events and people for being judge, jury, and jailer. No more of that, or at least, not very much. It is surprising how much more respect I feel I am gaining.
I know what you mean. I am my own best enemy.
Thank you. Useful reminder just in time.
Aloha Monica, Mahalo for writing this and articulating what it's like for you during your retirement season. I just retired @ the beginning of this year and have been slow traveling visiting all 4 of my grown adult children and their families in 4 different states. Some of the experiences you've shared in this essay of yours, I can relate to as a newly retiree. I've been blessed with 12 grandchildren age ranging from 22 years to 17 months. So, my visit @ each stop is sometimes loud to very quiet. It's definitely a transition for me; I knew that once I hung up my "bump-n-grind," hat @ the beginning of the year. I consider myself a non-traditional grandmother (my own personal definition), meaning I've been a "hands-on" grandma since my first grandchild was born 22 years ago. The culture I grew up in and how I was raised, that saying, "it takes a village..." is LITERAL in my life and from where I come from. I am now helping raise my 17-month-old grandchild (because I want to). Now that I'm not working 3-4 jobs @ a time, this is my time to choose what I want, when I want and who I want to be around with and around me, w/out feeling physically drained. Yes, retirement is something else...a mystery maybe for some, but for me, I started @ 62 while I still have my health and I'm still able to do for myself and have the daily strength to tend to my daily needs, as well as to the needs of my loved ones. At times I get those crappy voices in my head and if it's NOT bringing me peace of mind, I immediately squash that sh*t out by infusing my living environment w/positive energy and LOTS of sunlight and MORE love. My daily mantra, "everything is ALWAYS working out for me," coupled w/Reiki energy cleansing and healing works WONDERS and sets the tone each day for me. I wish you and all an abundance of love, light and happiness in your retirement season. Mahalo nui loa, Christine
Right, especially Susan LIVE from Mulberry St. What can we do? Whatever we can. Hire a hot, young Criminal Defense lawyer? If you have to. But NEVER plead guilty. And never give up. I am here in a "Desolate land, for Defiant People", not the Dismal Swamp in North Carolina/Virginia North of where I lived 12 years in the 50's and 60's on fantastic wonderlands of the USMC's Second Marine Wing. No, I retired ten years ago to the bone dry heat of the Anza-Borrego Desert, not the sultry humidity of the rivers, creeks and ocean shores. I have taken my rest, ten years of slow dry heat and wilderness so breath taking, surrounded by 7000 ft mountains, so isolated that you are forced to consider the coyotes and scorpions, and Big Horn Sheep as your only intimate partners.Now, 77, and still strong and willing. One 4 week long encounter with a G.I. assault, two weeks in hospital, two weeks more on three antibiotics at home, and I am done with wilderness life. My girl friend drove me to my assigned E.R. in Oceanside two hours to the West. My Long Beach daughter drove me home. My boyfriend of six years broke up with me two weeks before all this. And after six years of riding his devil's roller coaster, with multiple breakups and makeups, I resisted calling him for my second trip to the E.R. with complications from one of the antibiotics - profound muscle weakness(Levaquin). Powerful drug, wicked side effects. I debated with my two daughters, both at their in laws for the 4th of July(Boston and Miami). My girl friend was over in Palm Desert at her own medical procedure. I talked to my Pastor at church. I considered an Uber. I ended up driving myself to ther E.R. Easy-Peasy, I was weak and unsteady, but mentally sharp. No one on the roads out of Borrego. I drove slow, made many stops for toileting, and got to the ER. After that second admission, I did not drive home. I stayed next to the hospital, for one more day.
And independently, decided. I am done with the beauty, solitude, pleasure and freedom of hills where the Pacific Crest Trail starts. I am going back to the city! Instead of a huge custom house in the desert. I will sell and rent a small apartment near the sea. I will begin my next adventure where I spent my entire life- close to the ocean, again. Carlsbad, or Oceanside, North county San Diego, CA. I am leaving Borrego Springs, also north County San Diego, just the liminal back end of civilization. I can come back for visits, anytime I want. I am alive and free. And at times, my own false witness. But today, the truth is, I love life!!!!
Some posts like this one and by other retirees remind me of an apron my grandmother had after my grandfather retired, which had printed on it the questionably funny “Whoever heard of a retired housewife?” That is, as a woman, are you ever allowed to relinquish your responsibility toward your home, your family, or others? It’s a struggle even to feel the right to self-actualization or taking a break. Or like in the children’s novel The Secret Garden, the right to live in spite of what people say. I applaud your effort to break free from that ridiculous critical internal dialogue, I am myself also rediscovering a sense of possibilities that felt unallowed by discouraging voices (external or internalized). And yet there is part of me that doesn’t want to lose our interconnected family and neighborly relationships that keep
our communities well..