One Month Anniversary

 Unsolicited

The most consistent piece of unsolicited advice I received regarding my impending retirement was "get yourself a hobby." I heard it from everyone. A coworker in the breakroom related how their parent took up fly tying. (Not fly fishing, they just liked making the little lures.) "It keeps him active and alert," the coworker said, as if his father were otherwise in danger of becoming a houseplant.

The server at a luncheon restaurant I frequented while still employed lauded the benefits of a post-retirement avocation. "Get yourself a hobby. My mom started training for a marathon," she said. "It keeps her active and alert." I smiled appreciatively to hold back the horror which threatened to erupt from my throat in a scream that would have blown the server's hairnet into the next county.

"Get yourself a hobby," I was told by a retiree I meet frequently while walking my dog in the park. "I took up birdwatching. It keeps me active and alert."

I really learned something from these people. I learned that I am a complete stranger to people who feel they know me well enough to give me advice. I have protected my private life from public scrutiny. I am, essentially, Batman without the money, cool gadgets, or record for harassing criminals. But I do have a private cave—well, a basement.

I appreciate everyone wanting to make sure I don't devolve into a ficus. But how could they not know I already have an embarrassment of hobbies? I like to crochet. I do stained glass projects. I bind books. I carve wood. I play tabletop games and recently got into solo role playing games. I write. There is a library of books on my "to read" list. Finding something to do in retirement is not an issue.

The advice I really could have used from everyone who has already experienced the trauma of leaving work is a sure-fire way to stay motivated. After decades of a routine how was I supposed to suddenly be in charge of my own time? I wake up every morning (knock on wood) without a deadline to press me into action. I can do anything I want, except make a decision about what to do. I sit down to write and think about carving a walking stick. Or I open a spreadsheet to plan a solo campaign for a role playing game I've always wanted to try, and all I can think about is downloading a pattern to crochet a life-sized octopus.

Thinking back, I believe the advice I've received has been right all along. The fault was in the delivery. It should have been, "Get yourself A hobby." In other words, focus. Pick something and stay with it. So I do. I'm writing every morning. Sometimes it's a blog post, others it is a short story or simple free writing just to experience the joy of language. It helps to keep me active and alert.