On Tuesday this week I cycled over to the University for a meeting I’d organised with my research team. It was a nice, sunny day – unusually warm for this time of year. As I cycled I pondered the themes arising out of our research on Serious Case Reviews.
At the reception desk of the conference centre they could find no record of my booking. After a while searching, I looked up my booking reference only to find that the meeting was on Wednesday. I had booked the room for Wednesday, told the rest of the team it was on Wednesday, and written it in my diary for Wednesday. But somehow I had got it in my mind that the meeting was on Tuesday.
So I cycled home again.
And as I cycled, I pondered the themes arising out of my time management in retirement.
It isn’t the first time I’ve failed to look at my diary, or turned up for a meeting on the wrong day, or at the wrong place or time. But somehow, being retired and not having a structured routine to my week seemed to make it less surprising on this occasion.
In the run up to my retirement, a number of people pointed out to me the challenges of managing the twin demons of boredom and busyness. So far, I haven’t suffered from the first, and don’t see any realistic prospect of it haunting me too much.
The second – busyness – seems to me a much more real adversary. When I hear myself describing to others what I’m doing with my time, and the things I am committed to, I start to wonder whether this really is retirement. In the six weeks since I stepped out of paid employment I have been on a silent retreat; visited Jordan and Sweden on child death review projects; analysed data for our Serious Case Review research programme; preached in our local church; made a leaflet display stand from recycled wood; drafted my application for a PhD; seen both my children and my parents and a number of friends; cut down some trees in the garden; spent five days in London at the Department for Education; given evidence in two court cases; and read five books.
And yet it really does feel so much calmer and more relaxed than when I was working. I am loving the freedom of waking up in the mornings and wondering what to do today; of being able to spontaneously go out for a walk with Lois; of spending time in the garden; and of saying no to any requests to take on any new projects. I value the opportunity to truly focus on a small number of ongoing projects, and give my mind to them without feeling distracted by too many other competing demands. I am appreciating the peace and beauty of Breathing Space. And I’m looking forward to the eight weeks we’re about to spend in SE Asia and New Zealand.
So, demons may flee. What I think I am experiencing is a new fullness of life. And that doesn’t leave much room for either boredom or busyness.
And it does mean that I can enjoy the fresh air and exercise of a needless cycle ride, without feeling frustrated by all the things that I could have been doing instead.