Fade Out

There I was, deep in YouTube World, when I found a TED talk called “The Four Phases of Retirement.” Of course I watched it, eager to learn what those phases were, and how I could score 100% on the phases test. The speaker identified these phases as:

1)    Vacation

2)    Losses

3)    Experimentation

4)    Reinvention

It was very interesting and well-reasoned. As is my wont, though, I found the most entertainment from the comments. This batch was filled with braggers (“I’ve been in Phase 1 for 15 years and I LOVE it!”; sad sacks (“I wish I was back working at the chicken processing plant. THAT was happiness!”; energetic experimenters (“then on Tuesdays, after my 10k run, working on my counted cross-stitch project and tutoring at-risk youth, I’m learning Tagalog!”), and a few people who have genuinely embraced their greater purpose in this world.

But then someone posted this:

“Retirement is that period between fading out of relevance to fading out of existence.”

Whoa.

I was, initially, horrified. As one who thinks of herself as quite relevant indeed (and who has no intention whatsoever of dying), I’ve never framed the retirement years in those gloomy doomy terms. No, I think of myself as a Phase 3, spouting bromides like:

“I’m busier now that when I was working.”

“I finally have time for myself (to travel, learn piano, bake sourdough bread).”

“They don’t call them The Golden Years for nothing!”

Now THAT’s more like it! I can stay just as frantically occupied as ever, while taking up many fab new hobbies and always maintaining my great expectations for the time to come!

But, now that I’ve been retired from my position at church for several years, my views are evolving. After a lifetime of measuring myself with someone else’s yardstick, I’m finally figuring out who I really am--- without a job title, without young children, without a daily routine that guaranteed no time or energy for reflection. And, as my life’s pace gradually slows, I do think about my (maybe brief) future.

And you know what? It isn’t depressing me! I have enjoyed 69 years of changing seasons, birthdays, waking up, brushing teeth, making conversation with my fellow earthlings, etc. It’s been mostly great, but also---exhausting, and rather repetitive. If I learned that I had, for instance, just 10 autumns left, I’d think: That’s fine, I’ve actually seen enough pumpkins. I refuse to feel guilty when I do not learn to play chess, become an apple farmer, or ever open that 700 page bestseller everyone’s raving about. And, when it comes to leaving a lasting impression on the world, I really don’t care all that much.

I find the idea of slowly (elegantly!) fading from the scene to be a lovely way to go. Like the conclusion of a great movie. I will disappear into the fog, with the credits rolling over me. Producer, director…best boy, key grip, Foley artist, then…fade to black. THE END.

Sounds like Heaven to me.