Showing posts with label retirement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label retirement. Show all posts

Saturday, October 26, 2013

How to Fall in Love With Life

Did we earn this?
"I've earned this drink."
"I've earned this vacation."
"I've earned some down time."

Do fun and relaxation and joy have to be earned? Is life like a bank where you make forcing-myself-to-do-what-I-hate deposits in order to withdraw a-little-bit-of-fun interest?

I knew a woman who despised her job. That was pretty much all she talked about--how one day she couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. She had calculated the years, months, days and hours until she could retire.

She was obsessed with how screwed-up her job was and how much better other people had it. She was filled with a feeling of dread that she allayed with lots of food and booze. The job owned her even when she was at home.

Finally, well into her sixties, she reached that coveted retirement date. Literally days later, she was diagnosed with cancer. She spent the first years of her "earned downtime" undergoing medical treatments. Fortunately she had good insurance, and fortunately she's still alive.

When I hear anyone say, "I've earned a break," I often think of her. It was like she was swirling about in a hurricane of her own making. She had to grip tightly so as to not get blown away by her own winds.

And when she thought she'd done enough to earn calm seas, life had something else in store.

Like many people, I've been well-schooled in the notion that my personal value is derived through hard work and sacrifice. Anything that sniffs of fun or chillin' out is suspect. Sometimes I catch myself justifying my life, even to myself.

And now that I'm not living a traditional life of a "regular" job, a "regular" mortgage, and a "regular" schedule, a lot of people see me as lucky. They think I'm happy because life has treated me so well.

My little mind gremlin scurries in and says, I need to explain how I've made sacrifices to live the way I do. I need to explain that we're taking risks, that I don't have it all figured out--in other words, that life isn't easy, it's hard.

But at some fundamental level I know we are all worthy of ease. Of joy. Of love. Of living by the guidance of our internal light, no justifications necessary. We don't have to earn it. It's our birthright. It's our natural state.

And how we claim this birthright, I believe, is through gratitude. Through being right here, right now, touched with amazement that we are alive, at this moment.

I used to be like the I-hate-my-job woman. I was always imagining a better time around the corner. I bemoaned my maltreatment and could spin myself into a horrible funk about how everything was wrong. And I earned every beer I drank, damnit!

Over time I learned how to soften my attitude toward life. I got into the habit of appreciating what I liked rather than pushing against what I didn't. Sometimes it was the smallest thing: I like that I get free Post-its. I like the trees outside my office.

Sometimes I still fantasized about leaving the job. I caught myself and said, "Okay, quit. Or quit complaining."

It's not about quitting your job but quitting your resistance.

Eventually I began to enjoy my job more and more. It was amazing: There was so much more to appreciate than I'd imagined! And by the time I retired this year, I was saying not saying "good riddance" but "goodbye and thank you." Time to move on to the next thing.

It wasn't that everything was going my way and then I became happy.

First I fell in love with life. Then it got really good.


Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Why I'm Quitting My Job

1.  I feel like it!  I'm doing this all on intuition and from a place of pure joy.

Joy!

2.  One day I will die.  I intend to live the life I want to live.  Fully.

3.  Funny how I never thought I'd leave when I was digging my job, which I am for the most part.  I love my students.  I like the vibrancy of the campus.  I enjoy the classes I teach.  It just feels like time.  And how fabulous to be leaving not out of rejecting the old but through embracing the new!


4.  Maybe it feels like time because I have been in academia for 46 years doing thus in this order: Preschool, elementary, middle school, high school, B.A., teaching credential, student teacher, high school teacher, learning center tutor and administrator, M.A., Teaching Assistant, Lecturer in English and Education, student teaching mentor, English teacher in Japan, instructor at two community colleges, Ph.D., educational researcher, Assistant Professor in Education, MFA in creative writing, lecturer of English and Creative Writing.  It's been a beautiful ride.

What retirement can look like...when you're on Jam Cruise.

5.  Technically, I'm retiring.  I became eligible when I hit 50 last November.  Although I've never made much money as a teacher, I've had excellent medical benefits that will continue on in retirement. I can make money doing other things without losing those benefits.

6.  Of course I'm not retiring in the classic sense.  I'm moving onto the next part of the journey.  By opening up the space and time, all other kinds of fabulous possibilities will flow my way.  I'm already exploring some ideas--such as creating yoga and writing retreats in Maui and Santa Cruz.

Going with the flow...and enjoying anticipating what'll come 'round the next bend.

7.   I want to read every winner and finalist of the National Book Award, the Pulitzer, the Orange Prize, and the Nobel Prize. I've always read a lot, and most of my life I've read with this in mind:  how will we discuss this book in class?  It will be quite the experiment to read extensively without that disposition constantly churning in the back of my mind.

8.  I want to write.  I want to finish a book I've been working on for a while, and begin several others.  I want to expand this blog, my website, and my "Ask Dr. Kate" column.

Getting crazy with friends on the streets of New Orleans during winter break this year.
9.  I want to travel any time of the year.  I haven't gone on a long trip in fall or spring my whole life!  I want to continue to explore new places with Dave.  He'll take pictures, and I'll write.  We started journeying together more than three years ago--and in our new life configuration, the world is the limit. 


10.  But first, as soon as I've turned in the last grades of the semester--and perhaps ever--I'm going to open myself up to deep listening.  I'll put my ear to the shell of the world, to drink in the new, sweet sounds.  Sounds of being.  Sounds of possibility.