This is not for fifty-year-olds, but for thirty-year-olds—who, thankfully, are also the greatest number of my readership. Besides, a lot of people in their forties and fifties have already made their decisions for good or ill. I’m writing this because the earlier you make the decision, the better prepared you’ll be for never retiring.
I decided shortly after I reached 50 years that I’d never retire. Now, at 88 years, it’s one of the four or five best decisions I’ve ever made. Initially my decision was about the fact that I love my business and my profession. Not least because it’s been exceptionally lucrative, making possible a lot of things that I’d only dreamed about. But as time has gone on, I’ve realized that there are many more reasons than just loving my lucrative business. My decision has surfaced many reasons for never retiring, reasons that were not obvious to a 50-year-old, even within my wide knowledge base.
First, people who continue working have the best health future. I have a high school classmate who was university faculty until his retirement at 70. I chatted with him a short while ago, just checking in on him and how he felt. His response to my question was that he was “bored.” His health shows it. He’s diabetic with a neuropathy, overweight, limited in his ability to get around, and living with his wife in a way-too-small retirement apartment. No question but what you can have plenty of diseases while working, but work often focuses your brain on health. Jobs usually require basic health and so taking care ourselves simply because we’re still working is inevitable for many of us.
Second, work keeps my brain busy and alert. Though I only work with a few people a year in face-to-face relations, my brain is always busy. The blog I began back in 2009 still gets regular posting. And though plenty of writers have offered their services to me, I have not the slightest interest in sharing that task. Furthermore, I occasionally am asked to engage in major writing projects that recognize my expertise. Right now, I’m completing a major chapter by chapter review of a book just published by a very close friend. I also have a major writing project on the humanities that will take several months to complete. Extensive research reveals that “novelty processing” such as my blog and these projects enhance my cognitive abilities.
The University of Michigan’s Health and Retirement Study, which has been tracking participants over age 50 for decades, “pretty strongly shows that continuing to work has benefits for cognition,” says Amanda Sonnega, A Michigan scientist.
Third, there’s a relationship between work and physical exercise. Retirement medical insurance usually provides for gym workouts in their basic package. Because of a “mild-to-moderate” peripheral neuropathy that I’ve had for thirty years or more (non-diabetic), I regularly check in with a university neurologist, balance therapist, and podiatrist. In contrast to the podiatrists where 95% are diabetic, I’m not included in that group. But my doctor’s revelations about the failure and inability of the huge majority of diabetics to engage in physical fitness, and neuropathies are terrifying. My own younger brother died several years ago because of that failure to take care of himself physically.
Ever go for a walk when tired, or sitting too long at the TV or the computer? The benefits are immediate and obvious, benefits also supported by significant research. I make certain I go for a short walk by setting my watch to go off every 50 minutes during daylight hours.
After working with various trainers for eight years, I finally found a coach who really knows what he’s doing. The guy has everything but his PhD dissertation in the field. So I not only get the physical coaching, but also regular mini-lectures on my physical health. After a year of working with him, I’m in better shape than I’ve been in at least twenty, perhaps thirty years. I have a half-hour session with him three times a week on balance, strength and flexibility—and the difference is obvious. Having worked with three other coaches during the previous seven years, there’s a terrific difference among coaches. People are regularly shocked when they find out my age, almost unbelieving. Although part of the reason is my medical health, my physical health magnifies my alertness and well-being.
Fourth, research studies challenge my knowledge base. This is probably unique to those of us with an academic orientation, but I find it very fulfilling. My initial project on the humanities for a university colleague has gone a long way toward self-understanding. It reveals, for example, that my intense curiosity came out of my childhood interests in mystery stories. I was an avid reader by the time I was in the fourth grade. I read all the Hardy Boys mysteries, then went to the Nancy Drew stories and after that I found a lot of true stories of espionage by the OSS during WWII. I was hooked on solving problems in detective fashion.
Northrop Frye, the literary critic, has indicated that literary archetypes such as the “detective” or “agent" play an “essential and outsized role” in refashioning the material universe into an alternative verbal universe that is humanly intelligible and viable, all because it is “adapted to essential human needs and concerns." I realize that this may be pretty strange stuff for a lot of my readers, but the insight is completely new to me—and makes complete sense. One of my best friends, a retired executive in the mining industry, is fascinated by history. Just this morning he shared insights about his father and uncle who were in the Canadian military during WWI, leading him initially into government work during his college years.
One of my cousins, who’s in her early nineties, spends three of the four seasons of the year working in her garden. She grows a lot of herbs as well as common vegetables. Her work not only supplies her palate, but also keeps her fairly well fit.
People without personal interests quickly lose their sense of reality, retreat to the living room couch, ignore their health, spending a horrible time waiting for death.
Fifth, a sense of community. The Harvard Study of Adult Development has been tracking generations of families since 1938. The research clearly reveals that one of the major issues promoting well-being depends on good-quality relationships. On those rare occasions when I miss my major coffee meeting with my cronies, it’s very obvious that I don’t feel quite as well as when I attend. I’m the oldest in the group of ten to twelve. And I’m still very careful to keep adding new relationships outside of the group. I met a younger guy at lunch recently and we’ve agreed to have coffee later this week. He wants to get to know me better to understand why I’m still very active at my age. And I’m curious to find out if he’s another possible friend. When these kinds of opportunities come up, I don’t take them for granted. I recognize that it’s very human to be part of a community—and I intend to take every advantage to add to my community of friendships.
Sixth, a sense of meaning and purpose. I found out the importance of meaning and purpose in one’s life in my late twenties. I was handed a copy of Viktor Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning.” Frankl survived four concentration camps, including Auschwitz during WWII because he developed a sense of purpose and meaning. I must have read and reread that little book a dozen times over a year. (Obviously I’m not the only one. Amazon had 53,600 readers giving the book a score of 4.5.) Frankl found that the meaning of life can be discovered in three ways: by creating a work or doing a deed, by experiencing or encountering someone, and by the attitude we take toward unavoidable suffering.
The first is obvious. The second and third need a bit of elaboration. Some form of liking and love are the only means by which we can get at the essence of another person. Over the years I have observed people who seem to be unable to actually decide to like someone. One of the things that came out of my highly dysfunctional family was the awareness that my mother and brother were unwilling—and unable—to actually decide to like others. The consequence was not just that they were both unhappy people, but that they seemed never to have any sense of fulfillment or goodness in life. Two others that I got to know carried around a lot of unresolved anger. Eventually it bubbled up in both of them, leaving them isolated and alone. Liking a person is first and foremost a decision that must be made. It’s only secondarily an emotionally driven issue.
The third way of finding meaning in life is by suffering. Even when confronted by a hopeless situation. That’s not to suggest that suffering is necessary to find meaning in life. I’m only pointing out that meaning is possible even if you have to face unresolved suffering. The challenge of suffering is that unchangeable situations need not keep us from changing ourselves.
What makes sense about Frankl is that he’s not denying the grief and rage that spring from suffering and tragedy. He’s not suggesting that “we make the best of things,” or that “everything happens for a reason.” God, I hate that religious nonsense. Instead, Frankl suggests that we can find some kind of sense in any and every kind of suffering. It’s not always clear to me, but there’s something about his experience and words that make suffering easier—even though it may never have clarity.
Seventh, serving the greater good. While the job market varies widely by region, stories of worker shortages are still being heard. Why not help a local business that is struggling get through this period? Two of my friends, while visiting old neighbors in retirement homes, found that the firms were having difficulty finding and affording help. So both of them work one or two free 6 hour shifts a week with the residents. Given today’s market, there are plenty of opportunities for service.
Because of my coaching and business background, there are always pro bono options available for me. And as long as they continue to surface, I’ll continue to offer them. Although my pro bono work has borne significant fruit in the lives of others, I’m quite certain that I get as much out of it as my young clients.
It's very difficult to be certain that never retiring is what keeps me optimistic and happy. But I am certain that some of these rules very definitely impact my well-being. So as long as it’s humanly possible, I will continue to practice the rules I’ve laid out.