I'm Stuck In The Awkward Stage Between Retirement Euphoria And Total Geezerhood
SeventyFour | ShutterstockGeezerhood is the frayed edge of retirement that nobody talks about.
It is the phase of life where the body and mind have passed their peaks and settled into a state of feeble befuddlement — an inevitability we vigorously ignore. No test confirms one’s arrival at the gates of geezerhood; rather, retirement is a continuum that flows from “retirement’s euphoria” to geezerhood’s “I just can’t do that anymore.”
Somewhere in the middle of Euphoria and Geezerhood is a sacred chasm of greatness, the gap years that offer remarkable personal joy. The problem is, we’ll never know how long the gap will last or when it will end.
Let’s take a closer look at where we are and what we can do with the rest of our lives. And if we play our cards right, our gap years, no matter how long they last, will shine as brightly as a titanium hip. And while doing so, we may find ways to make those final years of geezerhood a pleasant and perhaps even rewarding destination.
The awkward phase between retirement euphoria and total geezerhood:
Phase 1: Euphoria
Everybody remembers their first day of retirement. My first retirement day began with a sleep-in followed by an eye-bulging rush of euphoria.
I had planned my retirement well in advance and prepared a long list of activities, hobbies, and tasks to combat boredom. I expected to flow smoothly from managing other people’s business to architecting my own. Instead, I blazed like a tumbling rocket and accomplished absolutely nothing that day — and what a wonderful day it was.
Unfettered wild abandon woke me the next morning and many mornings thereafter. I scurried from projects to hobbies to visits to parties with the enthusiasm of a man half my age. Every moment offered another exciting opportunity until I ran out of new adventures, and my road to freedom developed ruts.
This early phase of retirement is different for each of us, but at some point, euphoria melts into recurring rituals and habits that structure our days. Morning tea, puzzles, and hikes. Grandkids, news, and naps. Shopping, cleaning, and reading.
It’s better than work, but is it everything you dreamed of? Is it enough to be the reigning Monarch of Mah-Jong, or do we deserve a more fulfilling retirement? I say we deserve more.
Phase 2: Minding the Gap Years
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In the years between retirement euphoria and feeble geezerhood, our retirement gap years, we face an interesting dilemma: What do we do when every day seems just like the one before? Solution: We turn our retirement into an exciting journey, map out our route, and make adjustments as we go.
Start by mapping your retirement goals. You spent your life achieving other people’s goals: parents, bosses, customers, co-workers, organizations, and more. Now is the time to focus on what you want.
Retirement is your time. Take it. Conquer it. Own it.
Start by considering what you have always wanted but never got around to. Don’t be shy; you only get one chance at retirement. Think of your childhood dreams, your college aspirations, and the long-lost desires you sacrificed for your career.
Writing, painting, creating, running miniature trains, teaching, building model airplanes, history classes, cooking, conducting, volunteering, exploring: there's no limit to what you can accomplish in retirement.
Me? I’ve always wanted to be the very best — in the top 1% — at something. In retirement, I aspire to be a published novelist, and I’m willing to work for it. If I make it, I’ll die a happy man.
Ask yourself: I would die happy and contented if only …
For most of us, there isn’t a single answer. You may want to be excellent at several things simultaneously, grow deeper bonds with your family, rebuild friendships, travel, or learn to master the kazoo.
We all wonder how much time we have left before we stumble into geezerhood. A decade, a year, a week? The answer is: It doesn’t matter. Every day is precious.
"Every journey begins with a single step." —Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu
Don't wait until tomorrow to begin building the perfect retirement
Build motivation
I know a 95-year-old woman who has a sign on her wall that says, “I am strong.” Every time she walks past it, she touches it with her fingers and smiles with confidence. It defines her day, lifts her spirits, and inspires action.
She walks a mile a day, drives to the market, reads, and socializes. If a 95-year-old can sustain motivation with a three-word sign, we can motivate ourselves too.
Consider my definition of retirement: Retirement means you can start doing anything you want and stop whenever the heck you like.
Face it: nobody cares about your victories and failures but you. If you pick up a knitting hobby and quit a week later, you won’t be fired, your dad won’t chastise you, and your friends won’t call you a quitter (if they do, quit them too).
Buy a book, and if it bores you in mid-chapter, give it away. Play pickleball, and if you get whacked too hard with a wiffle, stop. Ski, build, chess, hike, yodel, yoga, yo-yo.
Pick your poison, as they say, and give it a try. We’re not getting any younger. Somewhere, some activity is dying to be your obsession. Help it find you. And consider hanging a sign on your wall.
Find things to do
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Boredom is retirement’s poison. Boredom and money are the two biggest reasons retirees go back to work. I can’t help you with money, but I do know the cure for boredom: Get out of the house.
You can do your chores tomorrow. Today, you need to take a walk and chew the fat with your neighbors. Go to the farmer’s market and observe the variety of crafts and products. Take in a movie or an art exhibit. Talk. Ask people what they do, and envision yourself doing it. If it fits … why not?
Me? I started volunteering because my friend did. I took up pottery, a skill I learned in high school, because a friend invited me. My brother is a woodworker, and now I am too. My writing, hiking, cycling, disc golfing, and kayaking hobbies share the same origin stories — friends.
I’m an activity copycat, I admit it openly and honestly. And I welcome you to copy me and everyone else you run into. You get the picture. Get out of your house, hang with friends, and do things they do. Be a keen observer of others.
Offer your services, help a stranger, take a class, strike up a conversation, and most of all, expose yourself to unusual people and new ideas.
Prioritize and pre-load physical activities up front
A high school buddy of mine in his mid-60s runs ultramarathons, fifty to a hundred miles in a day. It goes without saying that he’s a crazy son of a gun, but he told me recently that he’s cutting back because the time it takes to train and recover has become a burden. He plans to run only regular marathons now and has taken up the dobro. (Don’t worry, I had to look it up, too.)
If you had two dreams, one to hike the Camino de Santiago and the other to study the Dead Sea Scrolls, do the more physically demanding one first.
Aging is a continuum, a slow decline of physical and mental capabilities. One day you play soccer like a champ, and the next day it hurts too much. Your balance falters, bowling balls grow heavier, clocks spin faster, and your reading glasses keep hiding themselves. Priorities matter, and so does your attitude.
Drop the pretense and take a risk
Stand tall and proud with that bent little bowl you made in pottery class that looks like an ashtray. You tried a new skill, enjoyed the journey, and learned how to fill your retirement gap with joyful activities and enough stories to last a lifetime. It’s easy to mind your gap years.
Phase 3: Geezerhood
One day, we will reach a point where our physical and mental capabilities decline enough that we just can’t do it anymore. That’s when your focus shifts from bowling triumphs and pottery failures to personal gratitude. Family, friends, and memories become our most treasured belongings.
I recently had the honor of clearing out the home of a relative who died. She lived a fine life and left behind a house filled with furniture and clothes.
Do you know what her children wanted? Her memories. They pulled out her photo albums and spent hours on the floor flipping pages, squealing in delight, laughing, teasing, and telling stories. Make memories — what more could an old geezer want?
Brian Feutz is a writer, author, columnist, and podcast speaker who covers topics including retirement, humor, travel, tech, adventure, and fiction.
