A Retirement Road to Ikigai

"If you can make the process of making the effort your primary source of happiness, then you have succeeded in the most important challenge of your life."

~Ken Mogi

Sometimes, but not nearly often enough, our career and our calling conspire within us. Our calling is that app that runs in the background of your life. Some of us set the location access to "never" so as to preserve the battery life of our chosen profession. I think mine has been set at "while using" for those times of wistful thinking - all the "what if's" and "one of these day's." Perhaps it is due to our hardwiring for relevance and belonging that Boomers continually kick the retirement can down the road. It seems that whenever our "what's next" tank gets close to E, we pull in for a fill-up or recharge and off we go for another 300 miles.

And just like that, I'm reminded that retirement is really nothing more than adjusting your pin from one destination to another. It's fundamentally turning off cruise control, moving from the inside to outside lane, taking an exit and reclaiming the steering wheel of your life.?Retirement can be your ticket to true north - your ikigai, your purpose. It's a time to change your location setting to "always" so that calling becomes the compass for an extraordinary retirement experience.

"And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we began and to know the place for the first time."

~T.S. Eliot

My most favorite quote of all time. We spend the vast majority of our years on this earth as seekers, questing for that someone, something, somewhere that brings us happiness, prosperity, fulfilment. Choosing a vocation that fits your talents and then retiring from a successful career doesn't necessary drop you off at the intersection of what you love, what you are good at, how you make money and your legacy. Rather, retirement may end up being your first full, deep inspiration of calling. And that's okay - better late than never, right?

I am intrigued by the concept of Ikigai but not so much the Venn diagram that we see circulating on social media. Thinking of Ikigai purely in terms of the work you do or the money you make is not in keeping with its Japanese root meaning. Those things are important, absolutely; however, they are not absolutely important to the discovery of life worth. Our calling resides in life's simple things. It visits us in quiet moments when a perfect sunset reminds us that our existence is intentional; that life has meaning.

I am a lover of roadmaps, the old-fashioned ones that never seem to fold up the way they're supposed to. During our travel to remote destinations, my husband and I can count on getting lost at least once. Ironically - or perhaps serendipitously - those fortuitous detours have become treasured highlights in our travelogue of excursions.

"God long ago drew a circle in the sand exactly around the spot where you are standing right now. You were never not coming here."

~Sufi Poem

Ikigai awaits each of us. But the journey to Ikigai should be focused more on the pleasures we encounter along the route rather than how long it takes to get there or, for that matter, where we land. I've come up with an acronym for my retirement pursuit to Ikigai. When I reflect on my most valued life lessons, these are the aspirations that call me.

Introspection. Retirement has gifted me with flexibility. I am determined to take advantage of the rest stops along my life's way to reconnect with my individual, unique holistic selfness - mentally, emotionally. intellectually, spiritually and physically. I want to revisit younger versions of myself not to rehash the past, but to reclaim abandoned joys and uncelebrated victories. Introspection offers access to calling; it is popping the hood of your car. After all, you can't fix what you can't see.

Kindness. It is the elixir that fuels humanity; a precious resource that costs nothing to produce. I feel better when I do nice things for others; when I am intentionally present and genuinely empathetic. And I love it when others extend kindnesses to me. For several years, I have practiced saying "that is so kind of you" in place of "thank you." I've been amazed at the power of that affirmation by elevating a purely transactional interaction to a transformational message of genuine appreciation.

Inspiration. From the Latin word “inspirare" meaning to “breathe into.” You know, parenting is a very deep breath. It is also a humbling experience. After all, we have all this life wisdom and free advice that for some reason our kids choose to treat like a spare tire - for emergency use only. Retirement reminds me of that experiment where you stick your finger in a glass of water and then pull it out. That space your finger occupied fills in almost immediately. But I've become okay with that because our legacy is never REALLY intellectual capital. It is and always will be the extent to which our presence in this life inspires creativity and curiosity in those individuals who've shared space with us throughout the years.

Gratitude. We have a small plaque in our home that reads, "I still remember when I prayed for the things I have now." Is there anything more comforting than giving thanks? In positive psychology research, gratitude is strongly and consistently associated with greater happiness. I know that I am richly blessed. I've developed a ritual of quiet gratitude for the routine things in my life that are easily taken for granted. For example, as I was at the gas pump this morning, I thought to myself, "How fortunate am I to have the money to fill my tank." It's the little things.

Acceptance. Let's face it, things don't always work out the way we had planned or hoped. Before retirement, I drove (figuratively, of course) above the speed limit. I told myself I was just keeping up with the traffic around me. If I was chided for going too fast, I'd say, "Look at that guy who just passed me." Now that I have become more mindful of speed limits, I'm pretty sure speeding from one destination to another didn't really buy me that much. My perspective on questions like "Are we there yet?" and "How much further?" has changed because I am leaning into acceptance. I am learning to forgive rather than frustrate when road construction throws me a curve. The detour or slow down, disappointment or delay is what it is. As they say, life is what happens when we are busy making plans.

"Accept, than act. Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it."

~Eckart Tolle

Intimacy. I'm a fan of guardrails - those steel barriers that keep your car from careening off the cliff. If I could change one aspect of foreign travel, it would be the installation of more guardrails. (If you've been to Sardinia, you know what I mean.) Brene Brown's research on vulnerability has helped me process my need for guardrails. Personally, I find vulnerability to be one of the scariest aspects of aging. As I've observed my 90+ years mother-in-law grapple with activities of daily living, I have flash forwards of sheer panic. Aging is sort of like a blinking yellow light - proceed with caution and be prepared to stop. Retirement can have you glancing at the odometer more often and checking the dashboard for service indicators (what does that exclamation point mean anyway?) Me dependent on someone else? Me asking for help? Me alone; me vulnerable? I believe that it is the bonds of familial intimacy that keep us on the road not so much by guardrails, but by providing us with the emotional traction we need to stay our life course with courage, uncomfortable conversations and all. Keep those you love close.

These are my Ikigai themes - introspection, kindness, inspiration, gratitude, acceptance and intimacy. What are yours? Whatever you imagine your roadmap to be, I hope it is pathway to joy.