A confession 2

Thoughts from a Retirement Coach

By Mariella Vigneux, MBA, ACC
Certified Professional Coach

I knew I was in trouble when my brother-in-law grinned wickedly at me and said, “How can you be a retirement coach when you don’t have a retirement plan yourself?”  He is rightfully getting his own back, after having been through years of me questioning him about his retirement process:  What made you happy before you started your first full-time job? What do you like about your work that you’d like to bring with you into retirement? What sort of routine might you follow? What’s your plan?

I didn’t think I had to answer those questions for my own retirement because for years I’ve considered myself to be retired – by my definition, anyway: doing what you love and loving it enough to be being willing to do it for no pay.  So, why would I need a retirement plan?

 All at sea

Ever since my partner Mark began his sabbatical year from teaching, however, it seems I am all at sea. I’ve started to imagine Mark’s real retirement and what it will mean to me.  He’ll want to drive across the country to visit our kids, stopping to see petroglyphs, glaciers, and hot springs along the way. He’ll want to go on extended canoe trips and spontaneous outings to Stratford or Toronto to see plays.  Will I stay home coaching, writing, and giving workshops – all things I love doing – or will I be with him?  With him, my gut tells me.  So, what is my plan?  I confess I don’t have one.  And it was this wailing tone that ignited the glee in my brother-in-law’s eyes.

In one of my previous articles, When one person retires and their partner does not, I said, “I always assumed I’d carry on doing what I’m doing, because I’m having fun, but now I think I’ll keep my mind open to other possibilities – even extraordinary ones.”  Just what are those other possibilities?

Being part of a couple will shape my approach.  I mustn’t forget that Mark will settle into a routine once he retires.  It won’t be all travel and adventure.  I suspect his days will become more scheduled than they have been in the first four months of his sabbatical.  And my days will become a little less scheduled, more flexible, as I fit my days and ways into his.

Giving destiny time to find me

That still begs the question:  How much ‘work’ do I want to do?  How much ‘play?’  I’m still pondering.  One thing I have learned from my retirement coaching work is that it pays off to remain in the place of not knowing, even though it can be an uncomfortable place to be.

Canadian anthropologist Wade Davis agrees, saying we shouldn’t despair when in this creative phase of not knowing.  Despair is an insult to the imagination. He says,

“It takes time for an individual to create a new world of possibilities, to imagine and bring into being that which has never before existed, the wonder of a full and realized life…. The greatest creative challenge is the struggle to be the architect of your own life. So be patient. Do not compromise. And give your destiny time to find you.”

So, I will sit in my unknowingness.  I will see what comes. Like a pupa in its cocoon, I’ll ready myself for change.  Will it be simple growth along the same trajectory or will it be a total metamorphosis?  Who knows?