Today is the end of my first week of a three-month sabbatical. I was hoping to post at least something as short as a haiku poem every day, but I didn’t feel like it. I’m determined not to do things I don’t feel like doing unless they have to be done. Here I’ll share some of my observations of week one, in no particular order.
Thank God It’s Friday (TGIF) does not apply
I woke up this morning, remembered it was Friday, and felt like “who cares?” That’s not to say it was a completely negative thought or feelings; it’s just that the song “Everybody’s Working for the Weekend” doesn’t apply when you’re not working. Are there special things I could do during the weekend while on sabbatical or in retirement (which a sabbatical is — a temporary retirement)? Sure, there are things that the world sets up as special for the weekend, so there are still special events to look forward to if you’re interested in doing those things. I’ve never been that much into doing “things to do this weekend” (such as listed in local news), and I may or may not wish to look into those activities more now that I might want something different to do to break up the monotony. Instead of “working for the weekend” it’s more like “looking forward to the weekend to break up life into weeks rather than an endless stream of days” (thought that’s a bit long for a song title).
I felt like I hadn’t “earned” the weekend this Friday. I guess it will take some time in retirement to feel like I’ve earned all of it, or that life itself doesn’t need to be earned. I mean I know the band America “said the world don’t owe me no livin’” (from the song “Riverside”), and we all need to “make a living” somehow, but this life we all pay for is, in a way, free. I mean, the sun, the air, the trees, the oceans are all still going to be there regardless of what humans do. They are there every minute of every day, not just on weekends. Retirees can say they worked for their retirement (if they saved money or qualify for Social Security, that is), so I guess we’re all working for the weekend or “life end” (not the best wording, but the last part of life or “golden years” or whatchamacallit).
No Sunday Night Blues
Last Sunday night was the first time in a long time (apart from vacations) when I didn’t feel like “darn, gotta work tomorrow. Back to reality!” It’s nice to have a break from that. I’m not thrilled about going back to that when I “come out of retirement” at the end of these three months. I know, I know— I get to work, not I have to work. Maybe after this long break I’ll feel more excited to go back to work every Monday. (I doubt it, since I’ve been wanting to retire for several years now, but I hope I might feel better about working the next few years before I retire indefinitely.)
Retirees Support Workers
I was driving home from a date with a friend on Wednesday afternoon at 3:00 and wondered why traffic was so heavy. Since I had not worked in several days, I forgot about rush hour, or rush hours as the case is in Phoenix, from 3–7 PM. I suddenly remembered that traffic was heavy because these people were driving home from work (or maybe driving to work if they work evenings). It occurred to me that driving in slow traffic at these hours was my way of giving back to the workforce. I mean, retirees live in a world designed in the most part for the workforce. Retirees support the workforce in many ways: our retirement creates space for new generations to join the workforce and for later generations to advance in their careers. Grandparents who babysit their grandchildren provide the childcare working parents need so they can leave the house and go to work. Retired people put up with inconveniences such as rush hour(s) so that workers can commute to and from work. Perhaps it is we who will stop to help someone who’s car has broken down, or catch an animal so it doesn’t run into traffic, or stop to serve as a witness of a car crash. We do these things so that workers can get to where they need to go on time. Yes, the workforce supports retirees by making the world go ’round; that is, by ensuring that infrastructure is in place and functional, that packages are delivered, that products are produced, that transactions are processed, et cetera. But retirees support the workforce as well. It’s all a cycle of reciprocal support that contributes to a functional society.
I See American Signing
Like Walt Whitman’s “I Hear America Singing,” I had a vision on Monday of all the sign language interpreters in the country (or the world, even) working hard to sign the speech of hearing people for the Deaf people counting on them to provide communication access. I saw all their hard work, mental processing, repetitive motion, engaging facial expressions, intensity, but also the inner turmoil of straining to keep up with fast speech and complicated concepts, the wondering whether they are conveying their messages clearly, the work the Deaf clients are doing in watching the interpreters and interpreting their meaning in ways that make sense to them— the whole “interpreting machine.” And that’s not to mention all the interpreters voicing what the Deaf people are signing. I had this sense of being outside of that world, of that world moving on without me, as if I were a spoke that had left the wheel, perhaps to be replaced by another spoke or perhaps leaving the remaining spokes to be spread out evenly to support the wheel so the whole cart can keep rolling. It’s humbling to know that the world will go on without me when I die, and that the workforce will go on without me when I retire. I’d like to think that any positive role modeling, teaching, and mentoring I have done will never leave the workplace entirely. Even my mistakes have served as warnings of what not to do. In any event, I would like to think that the mark I have made on the workforce will last after I retire and after I die. Even if the effects of my life wane to nothingness, that is okay. The world — even the relatively small world of interpreting for the Deaf — is so much bigger than me. Just as I will move on to new horizons after I finish working, so will the world of work.
What Now? Or “Am I doing sabbatical right?”
I know I need to get away from “shoulding on myself,” and get in touch with what I really want to do, but I’m still wondering if I’m making the most (or the best) of my sabbatical. Do I feel accomplished? Do I even need to feel accomplished in retirement, or is the whole point to leave “accomplishment” behind and just… live? I mean, yes, I’ve done more housecleaning than usual this week, though no more than I’ve done some weekends when I was working. But retirement is not just about taking on special projects. Some people hire housekeepers, so I know retirement is not just about cleaning. What have I accomplished other than deep cleaning certain areas of the house? Well, I did have a walk and coffee date with a new friend on Wednesday, so I “accomplished” something social during the week that I usually would only be able to do on a weekend. I’ve spent more than zero time on my blog this week, so that’s something! (I haven’t blogged in many moons.) I’ve relaxed at certain times when I normally would be working. I’ve slept well, though I’m not sure I’ve slept that more than usual. I do feel a bit more at peace and less stressed out, so that’s an optimal time out right there. Even if I do nothing but rest more, relax more, and feel less stressed, that’s a valuable sabbatical. Yes, I have a list of things to do if I feel the need to do anything, but I’m still “working” on not working. And that’s how my first week of sabbatical has “worked.”
Daniel Greene 