I had no idea that retirement would be so demanding. I looked up “retirement” in the Cambridge Dictionary and it is supposed to be “the point at which someone stops working”. To me this conjures up images of infinite leisure, but fond thoughts of doing jigsaw puzzles and knitting jumpers are quickly receding. I realise that these gentle activities have no place in the New Retirement. I’m beginning to understand that retirement has changed dramatically over the years. In Barbara Pym’s Quartet in Autumn her retirees drift around aimlessly for a few years, watching television, visiting churches and going to the library until it’s time for them to pass on to an even quieter place. That may have been acceptable in 1977, but it’s absolutely forbidden now.
Now we must all aim for an active, fulfilling retirement packed full of plans and goals. It’s not enough that we’ve spent most of our lives so far doing exactly that, we must now redouble our efforts. Apparently we’re expected to re-invent ourselves. I don’t know why. It’s taken me this long to settle into the person I am and I don’t know how to turn into someone else – and I’m not sure I want to.
The list of achievements expected from retirees is long and exhausting. First of all, we must take up some form of exercise. Walking just doesn’t cut it any more, now we’re expected to be running marathons, rowing in the Thames Great River Race or cycling from London to Paris. My feeble attempts at tai chi seem very inadequate.
Apparently it is also a great time to discover your inner entrepreneur and start your own business. I suspect there’s a good reason that I’ve never had an urge to start my own business – I have no original start-up ideas and I don’t think I would be very good at it anyway. Never mind, I could write my first novel instead. People say that everyone has a book in them, but wiser people suggest that it should probably stay there.
Art classes are a popular option, but I don’t think my artistic skills go much beyond colouring things in. A few years ago I enrolled on a drawing course, but everything I drew looked like it had been done by a particularly untalented 5-year-old and after a few classes I was too embarrassed to go back. I could always take up a musical instrument, but I feel that my musical abilities peaked when I was 9 years old. All modesty aside, I was a bit of a virtuoso (virtuosa?) on the recorder. People said that they’d never heard anything like my spirited rendition of London’s Burning.
To be honest, just the thought of all this frantic activity is wearing me out. It makes me want to sit down with a cup of tea and then sidle over to the cupboard where the jigsaws live.
Thumbs up to knitting jumpers, but only for the little ones all our children are now producing! Don’t ask for one for a grown up version, they take too long.
Necessity being the mother of invention, at the tender age of 60 I had to reinvent myself and delve into the murky depths of entrepreneurship. It was a daunting challenge but as my youngest brother said, just because you know naught about it, doesn’t mean it’s not right for you.