It’s your last day at work after a long and stressful career on the «hamster wheel of life», and just before you leap off home with your old age pension, you are ecstatic. Those who have diligently hijacked you from Monday to Friday for the past few decades, are now history. You might just as well go out with a bang because you no longer need any references, or approval from the boss, with an eye on promotion or a salary increase. You are henceforth the captain of your ship and there’s no one else to blame, only the weather.
Your next days and weeks are spent floating on air, as the reality of ultimate liberty becomes manifest. Your initial reaction, to wear your retirement as a badge of honour, for a life of hard work, doesn’t seem to resonate with the folk at the pub as you expected. In fact, you become aware that there’s a slight air of resentment among the workers of the world, still imprisoned in the web of daily graft. When all the immediate tasks are completed, you gradually begin to hope for some pressing duty to perform. You also wish there was someone around to appreciate your singular efforts. That costly element of time, that escaped you all your life and forced you into a regime of strict priorities, is suddenly in abundance. But what do you do with it? You realise that happiness is not a matter of how much time you have at your disposal, but how much quality you can integrate into your life for this unknown phase before your shelf-life expires.
You don’t have the patience for fly fishing, the stamina for trekking or the craving for pottery-throwing or cookery. The local choir can beckon all they like, but it doesn’t entice you, any more than Tai Chi for seniors. The notion of writing your memoirs is similarly vacuous, since upon reflection, the contents of your life seem about as rousing as a page from the telephone directory. You ruminate on learning Spanish or chess, but they are similarly disqualified. The reality is that after very considerable deliberation, you need to find some work before you mutate into a stiff, stagnant, fossil, ripe for the nursing home.
Suddenly, on a sleepless night with a full moon, in a magical moment of illumination, you find your new calling. You will become the official local dog-walker and be the canine carer for pooches of stressed out workers. You have all day, plenty of little friends around you, hours to pick up poop and chat to those who won’t answer back. In fact, it may become so lucrative, you will wonder why you ever went “out to work”. The next morning, you ignore the inner alarm call, lay back on your puffed-up pillow, turn on your Mozart and bask in the luxurious sanctuary of pure joy. No appointments, no demands, – the day is yours. The sun is shining and little bubbles of pure elation are dancing around inside you in an enchanting way. All is well in your world and you have never felt so content or appreciative. Perhaps you will snatch your bike and go fishing after all – then you can sing in your bath afterwards, grill the fish and play patience.
Oh, Carpe Diem – bring it on!!
Photo: Snapwire