"Dear Pensioner..."

Last week, I received a letter addressed to “Dear Pensioner.” I first heard the word “pensioner” as a preschooler. From the context, I deduced that it meant “old man who hangs out at the curling rink gossiping and smoking cigarettes.”

Now I am a pensioner and falling short of my own definition. Thankfully.

I’ve been retired from my job at city hall for three months, long enough for the notion to have sunk in. I’m not merely on vacation and due back at my desk any day.

I can’t leave home without hearing the question at least once: “So, how’s retirement?”

Here are three things which have surprised me.

#1.  Although I knew it would be a challenge, it’s been harder than I thought to stick to my self-imposed writing schedule. I told myself I’d commit my previous work hours to writing and guard the time religiously. Those hours have a way of filling with other pressing matters—like appointments which are simply easier to schedule for the morning hours, occasional breakfasts with fellow retirees, or glorious summer sunshine on my deck.

But guess what? When I do manage to succeed at focusing on writing during that time, four or five hours pass in what feels like thirty minutes. That’s great, because it means I’m “in the zone,” doing what I love to do. (Of course, it also puts me in a weird time-warp for the rest of the day, but I’ll adapt.)

What do you do that makes time fly by? Pay attention to it, because it’s a good clue as to where your passion lies.

#2. I feel humbled by how quickly my old day job disappeared from my head. I expected to be checking the city’s website for council agendas and minutes or answering calls and emails from staff asking for my help. Surely they would feel lost without me. Right?

They haven’t called once. And that’s good, because I’d be useless. It’s as though someone erased all the work-related information from my hard drive.

I’m thankful I see some of my former co-workers at our weekly Toastmasters club, but as for missing my desk or my tasks like I thought I might? Not one bit. This tells me it was time. It also tells me our all-important careers are not nearly as significant as we sometimes think they are.

My advice? Don’t mistake your job for your life.

#3. I’m surprised to find I don’t mind puttering in the yard as much as I used to. To say “I enjoy gardening” still feels like a stretch, but what used to be an annoying chore to rush through is becoming a much more relaxed, zen-like tending of greenery and harvesting of fresh things to eat.

What tasks might you enjoy if you didn’t feel you had to hurry through them? What might happen if you decided to go ahead and enjoy them anyway?

The best part of retirement so far has been discovering a new level of contentment in every present moment. Instead of counting the days until the weekend or the next holiday, it’s easier to awake each morning anticipating a great day TODAY, regardless what day of the week it might be.

I love it. Try it if you can.