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Plan - or don't plan - the perfect retirement
Hey, you 50-something baby boomer: Have you planned your retirement yet? Not the financial picture. I'm talking about the activities and adventures. If you've been listening to me and a trillion other advisers, you know the drill: Life takes planning.
Except maybe when it doesn't. I ran into a former colleague the other day at a party. She retired last year, exiting not only our common profession but also the work world as a whole. And, boy, does she look happy.
So, of course, I asked what she's doing now and about her plans for the next chapter. Surprise: No plans. And no big retirement activities so far. She's spent the last year doing . . . nothing. And a little bit of everything -- exactly as she had nonplanned when she left work last year.
In fact, she confided, her co-workers could hardly believe that she had no plans, especially because she was retiring well before age 65. To quiet their persistent inquiries, she brought in a scrapbook full of photos of her doing everyday things such as knitting and hiking in the woods.
"This is what I do when I have free time," she told them. "With more free time, I'm going to do more of it."
And so she has. If you're not feeling a twinge of envy right now, you may not be normal. Who wouldn't enjoy having time to do all the things he or she wants to do? Of course, the secret to this kind of happiness is to want to do only the things you can afford to do. Once your desires outstrip your resources, discontentment seeps in.
For critical thinkers, including me, another problem seems possible: Even the most well-balanced leisure can grow tiresome. Psychologically speaking, is an endless vacation sustainable?
For once, I find myself without advice. Should you plunge into retirement without plans? Many people have found this to be problematic, even disastrous. Going from structured workdays to freedom can be a shock to the system. Hence the traditional counsel to set goals for the post-work years. I'll probably continue to lean that way in future columns.
In the meantime, talking to this very happy camper reminded me of something else I used to recommend occasionally: creating visual images of goals and dreams. One popular exercise asks you to draw a picture of yourself having achieved the new life that you're trying to build.
Artistic ability doesn't matter here. You could draw stick figures or cut up snapshots of yourself to create this picture of your future. Once the image is completed, post it where you'll see it frequently, with the idea that it will inspire you to move toward your goals.
I've used a version of this exercise in workshops in which the participants don't write or read well. They sort through magazines, seeking images that symbolize dreams they're trying to achieve. Then we build montages from the images or create storyboards. Again, the finished products get posted where they can provide inspiration and justification for the hard work along the way to reaching the goals.
One last story: The other day I met with someone who is leaving a company after three decades but who is not ready to retire. The trick is to define a new life -- and a new way of working -- outside of the company where she has spent her entire career.
Re-creating yourself is hard work, and committing ideas to paper sometimes adds to the burden. Pen-and-paper processes also invite overanalysis, sucking the joy right out of the transition.
To sidestep that potential outcome, I suggested a visual look at the new life, based on drawings or montages. The conversation quickly veered to a more three-dimensional view. Why not gather the things that will be part of her new life -- hiking boots, art supplies, her beloved bicycle -- and put them in one place, kind of like a "transition altar"? As her decisions evolve, the hope is that this place, full of the symbols of her new life, will help sustain her excitement for the transition itself.
So there you have it: I've gone from describing an unplanned retirement to a nonretirement planning tool, all without telling you what to do in your own life. Good luck with that!
- Amy Lindgren owns Prototype Career Service, a career consulting firm in St. Paul, Minn. She can be reached at alindgren@prototypecareerservice.com or at 1071 W. Seventh St., St. Paul, MN 55102.
