We talk about retirement more than almost any other milestone. We save for it, count toward it, and describe it in the language of escape.
Ask what comes next and the answer arrives as a shrug. Not this. Anything but this.
A destination defined by what it leaves behind is not a destination.
Dan Buettner reports that Okinawans have no word for retirement, only a word for the reason they get up each morning. Where purpose runs through the whole of life, nothing remains to retire from.
One author describes three forces behind who we become. Upbringing hands us the start. Chance deals the luck. Choice alone sets the direction. Most of us surrender the third force early and coast on the first two.
“No choice” is the most respectable sentence at work. The founder with a payroll, the executive with a title, the parent with a mortgage. Each says it with a straight face, and each earns a nod instead of a question.
It is easier to declare that we have no choice, for a cause we call noble, than to make one hard choice and do something bold. The noble cause becomes the cover story for the comfortable one.
We get one telling of our story. No test run. No redo.
Who are we still waiting on for permission?
