A New Chapter: Adjusting to Life’s Surprises in Retirement

Possibilities and Changes in Retirement

I see an incredible period of possibility in the 20 to 30 years of retirement. This stage of life is marked by numerous transitions and identity shifts.

Our priorities, energy levels, health, and the people we interact with daily all change. We also need to plan our finances and living arrangements as our reality evolves. However, we’re often not fully prepared for these adjustments. While most of us understand the importance of setting money aside, the rest can come as a complete surprise—and not always the good kind.

So, what do you want to do with this time?

Surprise!

The first five years of my semi-retirement have been incredible. But earlier this month, while out walking my dog, I slipped on ice and broke my right wrist—my dominant hand. I was about 3.5 kilometers into my daily 5K walk, taking a shortcut, when I went down. Fiercely independent as always, I decided to stumble through the rest of the route on my own, clumsily holding the dog’s leash with my left hand and trusting he wouldn’t cause any trouble. That was, of course, after the stars stopped floating in front of my eyes.

John Lennon’s voice echoed in my ears: Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. That line has taken on new meaning over the past few weeks. I feel as though I’ve become my own case study in navigating reduced mobility during retirement. I certainly wasn’t expecting a taste of this at 60 years old.

Go-Go, Slow-Go, No-Go

Some resources describe three phases of retirement: 1) the Go-Go phase, 2) the Slow-Go phase, and 3) the No-Go phase. A broken wrist gave me a fast pass from the Go-Go phase straight to the No-Go phase—which was shocking! I often talk to people about the physical changes that come with retirement and their impacts, but experiencing it firsthand was a whole different story.

Truth be told, I had a little pity party (or two). Suddenly, I couldn’t tie my shoes, zip up my coat, wear half of my clothes, cut an onion, or drive my car—all things I usually did without a second thought.

Suddenly, even the smallest tasks required my full attention. I had to learn how to get dressed using only my left hand or brush my teeth without letting the toothpaste fall into the sink. After a week or two, once the reality of my day-to-day began to sink in, I sat down to think about what I want to do moving forward.

I’m reminded of Stephen Covey’s advice: Begin with the end in mind. At some point, if we’re fortunate enough to age and live a long life, we will all enter the No-Go phase. So, how can we continue to cultivate a joyful, intentional, and meaningful life when everything feels so foreign?

Value and Asking for Help

Working with a client recently, I was struck by how inherently valuable she was simply for being the miraculous human being that she is. Think about it—what are the chances that any of us actually get to exist? Our value isn’t tied to what we can deliver for society or give to others. We have value simply by being. Yet, in many ways, society seems to have forgotten that.

I had to take my own advice this morning as I started writing this blog post, feeling a little useless. Losing even a small part of my independence has been incredibly frustrating. Asking for help has never come easily to me—and it still doesn’t. Seconds after sustaining my injury, a gentleman brushing snow off his car asked if I needed assistance. My reflexive response was quick and definitive: “No, all good.” I did make it home, but I realize now it might have been easier had I accepted his help.

Last week, I wrote the word ask on the palm of my fiberglass cast as a reminder: it’s okay to ask for help.

Joy, intention, and meaning stem from living in alignment with what matters most to me and my values—not from what I do for others.

I’m Lucky!

And I’m lucky! My husband got me to the hospital, has taken over several of my chores, and constantly reminds me to take a break. Despite having a broken wrist, I only missed about a day and a half of work—I can still talk, and there’s relatively little pain!

My dog has only missed one morning of exercise. Now, instead of our usual walks, we play fetch in the backyard—he might actually be getting more exercise than before. As for me, I’m not walking as much, but I’ve added some modified yoga to my routine and have been meditating more. Plus, the contortions I go through to get into my winter gear probably count as calisthenics!

Joyful, Intentional and Meaningful Retirement

I retired once from a career in IT at 55, knowing it was time for something new. Then, an amazing opportunity landed in my lap thanks to my coach training and I continue to enjoy this role. Now, I’m being called to change gears once again, guided by what brings joy and meaning to my life.

I’m moving a little more slowly than I’d like, as I can’t do everything I had planned for the next couple of weeks. In fact, I’m dictating this post instead of typing. I’m watching the words fill the screen, and it’s a reminder that there are always new ways to do things—though I suspect there will be quite a bit of editing ahead.

At 60 years old, I’m gleefully stepping into my new role as a retirement coach. I’m nowhere near the No-Go phase and hope to be back to Go-Go in the next month. This phase of retirement is a gift to do things that I love to do – like coaching and walking my dog.

How do you envision your retirement? How will you adjust when things don’t go as planned?