Dunkirk, NY – I’ve discovered that, while there is a great deal of information on how to prepare for retirement financially, there is very little information on how to do so emotionally and psychologically. Already I am beginning to understand that this process will not be as smooth as anyone would like it. I’ve begun the process of researching some of the literature on the psychological stresses of retiring and seeing how they fit into my own plan.
What is that plan? Well, here’s the thing. As someone who has spent a career in the creative arts, it is more difficult to find information related specifically to the arts. I’ve always found that something of a handicap, as the overall landscape of research into the psychology of artists and their relationship to the world around them is scarce. How does an artist “retire?” One might assume they never do, and of course some don’t. But the question then of quality is an issue – how late into your life as artist can you produce quality work? Tough to say.
For the moment, my transition plan is as follows:
- Avoid the theatre. The reason for this is recovering from burnout. On April 9, I spent my last day working in a theatre, and that was the plan I set for myself. My whole life and the arc of my career has been in the theatre combined with education, and I feel right at the moment the intense need to shed that. No theatre for at least a year, either going as an audience member or taking a role. I have a job come summer of next year, but I wanted this full year off so that, when I get back in the saddle again next year, it will feel fresh and new. That has already been tested, as there are many events going on within the department, and I am not attending any of them other than the upcoming dance concert next week.
- I chose to have no retirement event. There are many reasons for that, but the most paramount one is that I hate being the center of attention. I am way too insecure a person to have people congratulate me for a good career. I tend to see only the things I failed at, and it seems that no amount of focus on my successes can counteract that. And I truly hate any situation where any sense of obligation on the part of people to show up is present. I did have a very nice event on Sunday after Pirates closed, in which a few people came down from Buffalo to have a brunch with me. That’s enough formality for me. I think this is just a personality quirk, or perhaps I simply have too great a fear of the possibility that, in scheduling such an event, very few people would show up.
- I am calling this year my “gap” year, or “decompression” year; the year between finishing my formal career and embarking on any plans. I don’t have any plans, really, at the moment other than some vague travel plans. I feel I need to decompress, and simply shed the years of obligation and responsibility and see what comes out on the other side. This vagueness actually causes a little stress, as time is already short, and spending a year figuring things out just removes another year. But I am hoping the planned fall trip and the excursion to see the solar eclipse will go a long way towards making that adjustment.
- The biggest challenge will be to overcome my own sense of futility. Every time I think about what to do in retirement, I seem immediately to understand the futility of such efforts. Continue an acting career? Where would the fresh challenges come from? And do I really care that much about the theatre anymore? And do I want the grind of rehearsals and performances? Write a book? No one will read it, and it probably won’t effect any significant change? Start a theatre? Probably a waste of time given the state of theatre in this culture. Volunteer? Work part-time? Both things tie you down to place and schedule. So at some point I will have to come to grips with how to deal with the futility issue.
Biologically speaking, humans probably weren’t meant to “retire.” Without the trappings and the progress of 21st century technology, life spans would be much shorter. Not 100 years ago, the average life span of a male in this country was 68. Social Security was originally conceived of as a 5-year stopgap measure. No one predicted that it would become a payout scheme for people for 25-30 years. People did not have to make these kinds of plans; they just died. Today, we have to figure out what to do with all this time we’ve given ourselves to live, and figure it out within the framework of diminishing physical and mental capacities. I think this is a relatively new psychological field, and one that I imagine will be getting far more attention in the next 10 years or so. Right now, this is my plan to approach the issue. We shall see how it plays out. -twl