Does Retiring Age You?

I'm having recurring dreams. They started shortly after COVID began, a few months after I retired at the end of 2019 from my nearly 30-year administrative career. I was 57 and looking forward to a new chapter, perhaps even a new endeavour. I had plans to reinvent myself. Then the world came to a standstill, and I joined in.

Not long after leaving work, I began dreaming about my old office. The dreams were always strangely similar, with the same cryptic, Twin Peaks-like, haunting aftertaste. I could never find my office. In each dream, it moved to a different location, and I was in a different claustrophobic elevator, never knowing which floor to press.

At first, it made sense. I had just left a job that had occupied a large part of my adult life. An unprecedented crisis gripped the world, and part of me wished to return to the familiar routine, camaraderie, and sense of stability work had provided.

But here we are, years later, and those dreams still visit me. I wake up with the same uneasy feeling: lost, unsettled, and longing for something I can't quite put my finger on.

Recently, I got to see some former colleagues at a breakfast reunion. We hadn't gathered in years. We had kept in touch here and there, but somehow, despite being retired and supposedly having all the time in the world, we'd managed to become just as busy as ever.

Busy doing what, you ask? Sometimes I really don’t know how to answer that. After I luxuriate with my morning cup of coffee, the day seems to roll by. In fairness, I’ve had considerably more medical appointments, as I manage a rare form of blood cancer, a rather unwelcome gift for my 60th birthday. Fortunately, it’s kept in check with medication, and though my appearance on the outside might not give any clues that something is wrong, my insides tell a different story.

Seeing everyone in person was a jolt. We ranged in age from our mid-60s to our mid-70s, and as we hugged and greeted one another, I couldn't help but notice how time had left its mark. Our well-lived lines were more pronounced, and our hair greyer and finer than I remembered. I had heard that a few of my former coworkers were also dealing with serious health issues. Some of us found ourselves comparing how many medications we were taking. I felt like I was in one of those pharmaceutical commercials where the announcer speeds through the possible side effects and the list is so long you forget what the actual condition is.

And then came the surprising part. When we started reminiscing about our working days and what we missed most, we all agreed: it was each other.

We missed the friendships, the laughter, and even the tears. We'd shared birthdays, family milestones, and, sadly, many losses. So much of our lives had unfolded between nine and five, over lunch breaks, in passing corridor conversations, and in those small daily moments we probably never thought would leave such an impact.

Although striving for good health and a positive mindset may not ensure that we can overcome every challenge or avoid unexpected difficulties, we still have the power to choose how we respond, react, and engage in life.

I still dream about searching for my old office, never quite knowing where I’m supposed to be.

Perhaps that’s part of retirement, too: finding our way without those familiar signposts. Retirement rewards us with the freedom to explore new experiences at our pace, without the pressure or need to prove our worth as we face whatever comes next.

To my left sat a colleague who had recently retired after 47 years of dedication. When someone asked what she'd do now, she laughed and said, “Absolutely nothing!”

I loved her candour. It was so refreshing.

Looking around the table, I felt relaxed and grateful for my colleagues and this abundance of time we’d earned after so many years of working.

Retirement doesn’t have to age us. Losing our curiosity, our connections, our spark, our sense of purpose, even our humour—and worrying about things we can’t control—just might.

As George Burns famously put it, "You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old."