Yesterday, a client mentioned something that I said in a podcast interview had struck a chord with her. “My definition of retirement is to get up and do what I love doing 80% of the time.” It’s something I repeat so much I couldn’t even tell you which podcast I said it on, and yet I still appreciated the reminder yesterday. I say it not because I label myself “retired”, but because I’ve observed that the word retirement tends to carry with it a mindset of quitting, or not doing meaningful work anymore. I prefer to think of retirement as the freedom of mindset to see more choices, not fewer.
The difficult part about choices is noticing them.
Years ago, when we first moved from Charlotte to Lake Lure, working from home wasn’t much of a thing yet. It was less than 2 years since I left banking and the corresponding daily drive to the office among the tall buildings and hamster-wheel tunnels and walkways. It felt risky to be so far away from the action. When we moved, I had a job and a month later I didn’t. I decided to launch my own business with NO idea how to make it work this far from the hub of action. Notwithstanding the occasional moments of terror, I started with a solid client and found that traveling from here wasn’t so difficult. I was on a plane to DC at least once a month and usually more.
Within a year, I had more opportunities than I could take on. I was living in the past, not seeing that the question about whether my business would work had transitioned to a question about which clients I should choose to work with. The overflow led me to developing a couple of travel rules: I would only travel 11 out of 12 weeks, blocking off at least one week per quarter for taking care of business at home. And I would not do compound trips, meaning going to several cities in one week. The first rule was for my sanity; the second because I couldn’t figure out how to pack for multiple trips!
My perspective changed when that lifestyle (or should I say obsession with working) wore me out. Looking back, it looks like burn out. After 5 years going non-stop, I took a 3-month sabbatical in the summer to water ski and play. It took me a few weeks before I quit getting on the computer every morning looking for emails to answer and problems to solve. When I had choices about what to do every day, I still operated from old habits.
Even with freedom, I was still living in the past.
Somewhere after that, I started doing the math of life. For example, if I read 20 books a year and I could expect to live to 80, I might only have 500 books left to read in my life. Or if I see my parents once a year, and THEY live to 80, I might only have a handful of times left to see them. (It was less.) Anything I do annually (like Christmas or birthdays) would happen only 25 more times if I start counting at age 55 and live to 80.
I don’t have to tell you that 80 is a random number, or that we are not guaranteed tomorrow. Math of life simply offers a nice wake up call. It helps break the inertia of habitual choices.
The math of life offers a catalyst for change.
That’s how I began to think about my retirement definition. My sabbatical helped me begin to make intentional choices about what I did and did not do. I began giving myself permission to do things I enjoy, rather than doing things because I should. It gave me the backbone to say no more often. (Read more about sharpening your choices in The Delicate Art, Learn to Say No and Unleash Your Performance.) Eventually, I found the math of life made me realize that putting things off no longer made the same sense it did when I was in my 20’s and 30’s.
Time may be our MOST valuable resource. We can make more of almost anything, from money to friends to goods and more. We cannot get back lost time.
What is your math of life? What do you love to do? How many more times does your math of life tell you that you will get to do it? When you really look, what choices do you have?