My wife and I attended a Halloween party this past week with a group of fellow nerds. The theme was birds, and the costumes ranged from predictable (I was one of two Big Birds from Sesame Street) to pun-filled (the hostess dressed in blue, wearing a necklace of strung together blue kitchen sponges - a "scrub jay"). It was wonderful.
I ended up in conversation with someone I'd met in passing a couple of times, a retired dermatologist who proved to be a wonderful role model.
I inquired what occupied his days, and he relayed that he belonged to five separate choral groups and additionally played bluegrass guitar in a band. I was taken aback, as this seemed like a richer retirement existence than most male physicians I've met.
I asked if this web of involvement was accidental and fortuitous, or intentional. He told me that as he began to cut back his clinical practice, he knew he wanted to find a way ack to his longstanding interest in music, something he'd studied and enjoyed as a younger man.
A friend told him about a group of musicians who got together and played regularly, so (and this, he told me, is key) he began going to play with this group while he was still practicing clinically.
As a result of this involvement, he learned a number of things. First, he realized that he still truly enjoyed music. Second, he realized that becoming a part of the community of musicians was something that was viable to pursue in retirement. He liked these folks, he enjoyed their company, and it gave him an identity that he felt, in time, could help mitigate what he predicted would be a loss of his professional identity.
It turned out that he was right. As he described losing touch with the docs, nurses and other staff at his clinic, he described it as one might a change in season. His professional life had concluded.
At the same time, his life as a musician blossomed. A friend in the band also sang in a chorale, and invited him to join him for a rehearsal. He loved it and proceeded to join that chorale, and new friends he made in the singing world took on a multiplier effect, inviting him to sing in more groups until his week felt full.
He now gets to allocate his time completely to music, and finds fellowship with the singers and musicians that fill his days. He feels deeply connected to this community, and that connection provides for a fulfilling retirement.
I asked if he had advice for me in navigating the transition, and here were his tips:
- Choose activities that put you in contact with other people. You will need this social outlet, and it will keep you from feeling isolated when you leave paid work.
- Start exploring before you retire, so you have a chance to test the activities you hope to do in retirement. It's important to ensure that the reality lives up to the expectation before you've stopped working. If it doesn't meet your needs, you still have time to try something else out.
- Look to your prior interests for guidance.
- Having a service aspect to what you do can bring added meaning. He performs with the various groups he belongs to in a number of capacities, anywhere from European tours to nursing homes. The latter helps him feel he can bring music to people with limited options to enjoy it otherwise.
Our conversation got me thinking about what types of activities might do the trick for me. I felt better having identified a role model with a road map he was graciously willing to share with me.