Rectitude

This morning, as I dumped out the Sunday paper sections and started to paw through them, tossing the irrelevant ones, I had an odd thought that I’ve occasionally had before. It doesn’t matter what they say about ‘Looking for a career...’ or ‘Join the High Tech Information.....’ or ‘Interested in Health Care...’ anything. I’m past that. My plan, such as it is, is that I’m going to retire in just a tad less than three years. And that will most likely be it.

That date is an assumption, based on a financial spreadsheet that projects our net worth over time. It says that, all financial assumptions being correct, we’ll reach a specific milestone in just about three years from this past December. As I was hired into this job in December, leaving then puts a nice edge on things. I like neatness and symmetry, and it would do that. No guarantees that this will happen as planned, of course. I could get in a snit and quit before then, my wife could decide to quit early, one of us or both could get sick, or the horse could learn to sing. But that’s the plan. All things being equal, three years from now, I’m out of here and out of working, period. I must say, I like the sound of that.

Of course, there are reasons to think otherwise, too. For one, I need to figure out what I’m going to do with all that free time. I’m sure that the daily press of events will take up a surprising amount of it. When I took a year off after retiring from my first employer (other than the military), I was startled to find how much time it took to take care of the things that we used to squeeze into lunch times and weekends. There were other things going on – some substantial modifications to the house, plus my mother was seriously ill – but still, the other time was usually taken up with things. I didn’t have much time to just stand at the window and watch the leaves blow by. I didn’t get much reading done, either – perhaps three or four books when I thought I’d read ten or twelve, easily.

Another thing to think about is the idea of working while not working – not for the money, but for the satisfaction that working can give. I know, that’s an ephemeral delight at best. I don’t plan on getting a job at Wal-Mart so that I can delight in giving their great customer service, nor do I plan on hooking up with Barnes and Noble or Borders because they sell books and I like books. But something is out there, I think, that could captivate me, and I’d like to give it a chance to do exactly that. Plus, I know that I will still - still! - want to Improve Things, still think that things could be better, and wouldn’t it be nice if I could do it. I will continue to read and be tickled by articles such as the one in todays Washington Post about women starting their own companies – in a way, I think that what applies to them can substantially apply to me, looking for work that is meaningful and compatible with having a life while accepting that it will almost certainly not pay particularly well. If I’m doing it for the pleasure of it, cash won’t matter. It’ll be because its something I want to do, something that fulfills me.

Doing what? Nothing major, I’m sure. A niche market, most likely. I read a short story years ago of a fellow who was the assistant rector of a prosperous church in London - Saint Swithan’s, or somesuch – who was told that he would be promoted to rector. He was delighted, but when he admitted that he could not read or write, he was fired – can’t have an illiterate rector, can we? Disconsolate, he eventually starts a small business selling newspapers and cigarettes, and, prospering, opens another, then another, just walking the streets, looking for places that look like you’d expect a store like that to be there, and opening them. Eventually, a wealthy person, he’s asked for the secret of his success, and he tells the story of not having been able to read or write, years earlier. Imagine if you had! The interviewer exclaims. I know exactly what would have happened, he replies, smiling. I’d be the rector of St. Swithans.

I believe – no reason at all to believe this, but I do – that satisfaction can be found by discovering those niches, and filling them.