My generation is engaged in mass exodus from the world of work into the promised land of retirement. The journey is filled with joys and challenges (much like the rest of life). We all seem to enjoy the freedom to wake up when we are ready. We like to choose our priorities, which often translate into more play and less drudgery. My friend Olleke describes her experience as “more Being, less Doing.”
While the joy of more freedom is one recurring theme; another, on the "challenge" side of the ledger, is at least as common. We wonder how to share time and space, 24-7, with our life partners after 30-or-more years of coming and going from separate worlds. I have come to think about that transition in terms of rough edges.
While the joy of more freedom is one recurring theme; another, on the "challenge" side of the ledger, is at least as common. We wonder how to share time and space, 24-7, with our life partners after 30-or-more years of coming and going from separate worlds. I have come to think about that transition in terms of rough edges.
Like rocks and minerals, we develop an irregular shape over the course of our lives. Our psyches have hardened through habit, and we identify deeply with our preferences and opinions, values and schedules. Early to rise or late to bed, to air-dry or wipe the dishes, many projects or few, more play or more work, social life vs solitude, travel or not and (if so) where and for how long? Some couples sail through the transition to these new daily choices on a wave of unconditional of love and mutual consideration. I don’t happen to know those couples. The rest of us have rough edges.
Like the demons and dead ends we explored last week, rough edges provide us with a choice. We can insist and resist. Rough edges—when for example, they are embodied in flint and steel—generate sparks, heat, and fire. Most fires are small and go out on their own. Others expand and overcome the commitment of years: divorce among the recently retired is a growing trend.
An alternative choice is to see rough edges as smooth stones in the making. As we rub against one another’s bumps and points, we can choose to re-frame our absolutes in relative terms. Maybe there is space in this household for more than one opinion, or more than one approach to scheduling the day. Perhaps we can learn to enjoy something we never tried before. Maybe it is OK for my partner to pursue separate interests while I pursue mine, comparing notes at the end of the day.
Rough edges do not wait for retirement to emerge, and they are not unique to couples. We rub against differences with others all the time: at home, at work, in the neighborhood, on the freeway. We are faced hour-to-hour with the choice between insisting on our way, accommodating the demands of another, or seeking a solution that works for us both.
Where in your life do the rough edges rub? How do you work with the heat and light that result?
Like the demons and dead ends we explored last week, rough edges provide us with a choice. We can insist and resist. Rough edges—when for example, they are embodied in flint and steel—generate sparks, heat, and fire. Most fires are small and go out on their own. Others expand and overcome the commitment of years: divorce among the recently retired is a growing trend.
An alternative choice is to see rough edges as smooth stones in the making. As we rub against one another’s bumps and points, we can choose to re-frame our absolutes in relative terms. Maybe there is space in this household for more than one opinion, or more than one approach to scheduling the day. Perhaps we can learn to enjoy something we never tried before. Maybe it is OK for my partner to pursue separate interests while I pursue mine, comparing notes at the end of the day.
Rough edges do not wait for retirement to emerge, and they are not unique to couples. We rub against differences with others all the time: at home, at work, in the neighborhood, on the freeway. We are faced hour-to-hour with the choice between insisting on our way, accommodating the demands of another, or seeking a solution that works for us both.
Where in your life do the rough edges rub? How do you work with the heat and light that result?
Until the next time, go well.
Pam
Pam
1 comment:
Pam- This is a very insightful and timely piece you wrote. Just yesterday I said to my husband, "Can we spend the afternoon together on Sunday? Just to talk?" Now I understand what I really meant is, "Let's take some time to smooth out our rough edges."
You have provided me with such clarity on this Sunday morning. I will look forward to reading your Sunday blog. I too am an early riser. (Husbands a night owl)
Thanks Pam.
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