My 86 year old girlfriend was sitting on her front porch a few days ago, so I stopped with the dogs to chat since we hadn’t seen each other for a few months. She gave me updates about her grand-daughters, her son and her health. I told her about losing Snickers and introduced her to Sparkles. She asked me how my work was going and I reminded her that I am still, happily unemployed and early retired. I think she’s surprised because I look younger than most retired people (because I am).
Then she asked, “So what do you do all day?“
I replied that I workout, swim, walk the dogs, write, paint and do work around the house. It sounded inadequate to me and apparently to her because she asked what else I did.
She worked until full retirement age and is a total extrovert. Her life was always full of work, friends, women’s groups, HOA meetings, get togethers, church & church activities, activities with her husband, family stuff and the like. I can see how she might envision my life as empty. She often encourages me to join one of the local churches, participate in the HOA, join clubs and so on.
I appreciate the thought and am flattered by her kindness.
But my life is full. Each day is packed with activities from which I find meaning, purpose and pleasure.
But how do I explain the way I feel after finishing 110 pullups? Or the joy of snuggling with my new dog for an extra 5 minutes mid-workout because she just wants to collapse in my arms and stare lovingly up into my face? Or the “swimmer’s high” I feel when I crawl out of the pool after my laps are done? Or how fascinated I am on my 2nd dog walk of the day through a different neighborhood where I can study the architecture, marvel at the brickwork and wooden doors and admire the sconces and landscaping? How do I describe stalling through the wooded trails watching Wiggles and Sparkles light up as they track new scents, hear squirrels rustling through the leaves or jump back when they get surprised by a frog? Can I tell her that I blog nearly every day and that this helps me work out my inner thoughts? When I say I paint landscapes, it doesn’t convey that I’ve spent thousands of hours practicing, suffixing and thinking about my artwork. Or that I can stare at the paintings on my walls for hours at a time. How can I share the meaning I get from talking to my friends in the park, at the pool and the vets? Or how I get sucked into a different world every time I visit the library to search for books?
I can’t.
If she read my blog, she’d get a glimpse into this. But most people have no interest in reading my blog – understandably.
And her life, with all of the social interaction she used to have and even the more limited social interactions has now as she ages, would exhaust me.
It tires me out just thinking about it. Usually, after we talk, I walk away thinking, “Thank god I don’t have grandkids, visitors, and all those things to do!”
I do plenty all day. For me.