On February 15, 2019 I finally submitted my intent to retire from my career. It was hard to make the decision to stop doing what I have done and loved for decades. It was hard to say, I am going to begin a new season in my life. It feels like I have done that a few times in my personal life and the outcome was always favored and worth the change but it was usually painful and riddled with anxiety. So when considering retirement, I was certain that the same would be true. On that day, when I slid my intention paperwork across the table to my supervisor, I will not deny I was a little scared, a little excited, and a little uncertain that I was making the right decision. And on this day, several weeks later, I am still a little unsure and a little anxious of the outcome. But, I am also excited at the possibilities that lay in front of me.

As I have come to terms with the possible new me in a new role, the most surprising realizations have come about.  I have become more comfortable in my skin. There is a peacefulness that has entered my soul in knowing that I am in my last days of this career. I no longer rush to work or rush to get everything completed in a day. I just do it. I get to work. I get the job done. I do my best and I take a minute to look at the child I am working with in that moment and I make a memory. I remember the sounds and the sights of the classrooms and children.  I have chosen to allow more authenticity to enter my life in my appearance. I no longer feel the necessity to have hair that looks younger than my years. I did cheat and do the painless transition, so overnight I had salt and pepper hair that will continue to grow. I only have to go to the hairdresser once every two months for a trim. The freedom of the time, money, and anxiety of whether my roots are showing is amazing to me. I went shopping for some new dress pants and realized that I don’t need dress pants any longer. So, I bought yoga pants instead.

I have had some moments of anxiety that I am losing my identity.  When I am asked who I am, my answer has always included teacher. I am learning though that teacher was never who I was, it was simply what I did.

I have had some moments when I felt disappointment because I will not be doing some of the things that I somehow thought that I should be doing now that I am retiring. Like, I am not moving to Asheville, North Carolina to help shuttle through hikers. I am not moving into a tiny house so that I can live off grid and debt free, and I am not moving closer to my children so that when I am old they can take care of me.  Then it hits me. I really don’t want to move anywhere. I don’t want to live in less than my 1300 square feet, without electricity and running water, and I don’t want to live in the mountains. I like living on flat land that allows me to easily ride my bike and push my lawn mower. I also have no desire to put smelly hikers in my vehicle to take them anywhere. Laughing out loud to myself.  I have a wonderful relationship with my children and I don’t think living closer to them would change a thing and I have no desire to saddle them with my care when I am too old to care for myself. A long term care insurance policy should pay for someone else to do that.

So, what will I do?

I will do what I have always done. I will grow a garden in the summer. I will preserve the vegetables that I grow. I will cook good food for myself and my friends. I will kayak, camp and hike. I will play bridge, badly. I will visit my children and grandchildren often. I will read biographies and novels about far off places while I snuggle in front of my fireplace in a comfy chair. I will knit. I will sit on my porch and watch the sun sink into the horizon. I will play with my dog, Ernie, and take him for long evening walks. I will enjoy my special friend, Alan, as we explore new places and have new adventures. I will work with babies with blindness and teach their parents how to care for them. I will go to my church and I will rest in His peace daily. I will live a good life.

The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.

Exodus 14:14