Reflections on Retirement

Gentler musings on unrecognized transitions.

I look for work every day and more often than not come across minimum wage, or just-over minimum wage jobs that want a plethora of skills and education to do them. Not really what I'm looking for.

Yesterday there was a job for a part time worker (8-15 hours a week). Job requirements: 2 or more years of accounting experience and tax prep mastery, several years of being a personal assistant, consistent, independent and reliable habits, able to maintain personal and business finances, act as receptionist and problem-solver, do all product shipping, maintain all aspects of a home business, run errands and maintain household and business calendars. Pay: $10.50.

Another small business owner needed someone to manage her schedule part time, unknown salary, basic experience and she was open to a virtual assistant. She received 275 responses from all over the world. Seriously.

I've let thoughts stew over the weekend. I feel the prick of being on the short end of our supply and demand society for the first time. God, what a privilege of a life with little worry for buying that house or car, landing that job, taking that vacation. My life had some pretty good financial inertia.

Now a long termer OOWMAW (out of work middle aged woman), I live the bleak idleness of unrealized work. Too skilled and experienced to believe it at first; too assurred to believe it would last; too astonished to believe it has.

An unrecognizable world has emerged, with downsizing, restructuring, and regrouping. I pass up starter jobs, like starter houses ~ places to get into the game and pay your dues in order to move up ~ knowing my kinds of jobs will be on the horizon. In the quiet I hear Truth say 'Ready or Not, Here it Comes'.

It is suddenly my turn at bat.
I'm not in uniform or have the right shoes,

and I stand at the plate with trembling knees
not knowing the rules of the game.

I wonder if not being ready makes it any less real, or if environmentally-forced retirements are so hard because we didn't get to choose? If I were 62, it would be joyful to leave work and live a life of enrichment hobbies like cooking, and fine books, and gardening. Every day would be a portal to the next interesting phase of life.

Maybe someday I'll see it that way.