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I spent most of my early 20s not knowing what I wanted to do with my life – I lost track of how many times I changed my major! After graduating, I moved to Japan and spent a couple of years teaching English and exploring SE Asia. I knew I eventually wanted to go to graduate school, but I also knew that I didn’t want to continue in the field in which I’d (finally) majored. In a twist no one who knew me saw coming, I decided to get a PhD in biology. Two writers played a part in my making this decision: E.O. Wilson and Edward Abbey.
E.O. Wilson, who was a professor at Harvard, wrote a book in 1992 called The Diversity of Life, in which he celebrates the diversity of life on Earth, explains the role of healthy ecosystems in providing important services (clean air, clean water, food, nutrient cycling, etc.), and describes the ways in which human activities are threatening these ecosystems. As a person who spent much of her childhood exploring the outdoors and who loved nature, I felt called to a field where I hoped to make a difference. The stumbling block? I hadn’t taken science classes as an undergraduate and couldn’t really see myself as a scientist. Enter Edward Abbey.
My love for Edward Abbey began when I read The Monkey Wrench Gang in high school and deepened when I discovered his many collections of essays. One essay in particular, published in The Journey Home: Some Words in Defense of the American West, reassured me that there could be a place for me in the world of science. Here’s the passage that spoke to me: “The moral I labor toward is that a landscape as splendid as that of the Colorado Plateau can best be understood and given human significance by poets who have their feet planted in concrete — concrete data — and by scientists whose heads and hearts have not lost the capacity for wonder.”
So, I took the plunge. I applied to graduate programs, moved back to the States, and 5 years later earned my PhD in marine biology.
My dad, who I’m sure despaired of my ever settling on a career path, often said while I was growing up, “if you have a job you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.” I may have reflected on that when I was waking up at 3am to head to my field sites or working late into the night analyzing data or studying for my qualifying exams. I was working harder than I ever had in my life! But it was wonderful. I remember one morning in particular: I had hiked out to my field site in the dark and, just as the sun was rising, a whale surfaced so close to shore I could hear the ‘whoosh’ of its breathing. I was so delighted I laughed out loud and marveled that I was actually getting paid (not much, but enough!) to be there. My dad was so right.
Jonathan and others have written about the importance of purpose in our lives, and I’m grateful that my work has been so closely aligned with what’s important to me. I don’t know what aspects of my work life I’ll bring forward when I retire, but I suspect not many. It strikes me that contemplating what I’ll do in retirement mirrors my experience of choosing a major. There are a number of paths in front of me, equally interesting, and I’m not sure which one to choose. If history repeats itself, I can look forward to skipping from path to path for some time, and that’s just fine. After all, nonlinear journeys are often the most interesting!
Nice article. Thanks for sharing!
I would argue that non-linear journeys are the only kind there are, if you follow the line long enough – until it bends, stops or reconnects.
I retired about 2 months ago. I had a career that had some wonderful moments, and through which I made a positive difference. But there was a lot that I didn’t like. I could never say that I never worked a day in my life, and marvel at those that can. But one never knows enough about any life to understand what forces, what influences, what luck lead to a particular situation.
Completely agree with acknowledgement that you don’t know what path(s) will be followed in retirement, and for how long. One of my top take-aways from retirement, and I am early in the game, is how often others express concern about “… what will you do?”. I have been fortunate to have – or to have developed, or even nourished – curiosity and myriad interests.
My experience, once retired, is that no one asks anymore about retirement plans. And I have felt increasingly less need to offer up explanations.
Reply to Quan. What powerful stories about your uncle and yourself. I enjoyed reading both.
After 55 years of work and passion, your Dad for sure gave you the right advice about WORK. I did a similar thing with my Children and Grands, “if you have a job you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.” This is a fact of life, it is not the most salary that makes the difference, it is doing what you love and have a passion for, that makes it all worth while. Once in a while Dad’s know BEST.
Yes, his advice about work was great, and I’ve thanked him for it!
Looking back at old family photos, I saw one of myself holding a camera in fourth grade. It was my first and started a lifetime of fascination with cameras and picture taking. In high school I dreamt of pursuing a career with National Geographic.
My father assured me a photography career was not going to feed the family. “You’re going to be a mechanical engineer”, he said, “do photography for fun”.
Somehow I did manage to get into engineering school and barely made it out. Throughout engineering school I struggled and was filled with self doubt, but I didn’t want to let the family down.
The engineering degree opened doors no doubt and I enjoyed many comfortable years with good pay.
The truth is my father was right. It was highly unlikely I would have made it to National Geographic or any other national publication.
You probably took the right path by going into engineering, monetary wise. I knew someone who was a photographer for National Geographic and traveled the world, however, he lived a very modest life and didn’t own much.
In retrospect, my growing up was not unlike a life of an acorn. As a child, I wondered how tall I would be. In high school, I wished to grow up like my teachers – upright, steady and kind. Then my parents and the school prepared me to be an engineer. Like any acorn, I didn’t know there were unpredictable winds and storms.
The storm of a century uprooted my family from our home land. Just when our boat ran out of fuel and food, we were rescued by the U.S. Navy, which ferried us across the Pacific to America. For a time, I felt that my life, my future – including the engineering plan- had been blown away. A serendipitous encounter with a kind gentleman restored my hope when he told me that America was not just a place to survive but to thrive. He proved it on the day we met: if I quit my dishwashing job, he promised to admit me the next day to his community college through a work-study program. He was the college vice president. Denny’s lost a worker, but America gained an engineer — when it most needed one — and later, a doctor, when it wanted another.
Ignorant of time, the acorn grew into a tree — offering oxygen for life, stability for soil, branches for animals, and a source for new life. Now, as the tree begins to creak in the evening wind, it is a living reminder that its purpose was never to “work” in the economic sense. Its purpose was simply to become. Like the tree, our lives are shaped by our environment, and in turn, we shape the world around us. So in retirement, we continue our journey of becoming, thriving until we, like the tree, return to the soil where life begins anew.
This is lovely. Thank you for sharing!
A side story about the unpredictable nature of growth and becoming.
My uncle had been a general (the youngest at the time at 35 years old), commanding one quarter of the South Vietnamese Air Force during the war. He was with us during the escape and rescue at sea. His life in America was in survival mode for the first decade, sweeping a factory floor while learning to be a machinist. The factory closed and he was desperate searching for another job. By chance, when a receptionist turned him away, the company CEO entered the building and glanced at his resume sitting on the front desk. He was invited in and they talked about the aircraft performance during the war. The company happened to manufacture military aircraft components but they never got data about defects in the field. He was hired to be trained as one of the machinists. Despite lacking formal experience and a degree, my uncle quickly proved himself to be an innovative systems engineer. He proposed workflow changes that improved efficiency while enhancing quality to meet — and even exceed — the stringent military specifications for aircraft components. The company promoted him to be the lead machinist within 3 months. Twenty five years later, the company CEO gave the whole company one day off to celebrate his retirement. It is almost impossible to predict how a frail sapling will thrive in a changing world. Without a frigid winter, the apple tree would not bloom and yield fruit.
“Denny’s lost a worker”
This is a great story and your writings are very intriguing.
Denny’s could be good luck for becoming something greater like yourself. Jensen Huang, also worked at Denny’s. Years later while meeting with two other acquaintances at Denny’s, Nvidia was formed and he became the CEO. Jensen’s cousin, Lisa Su, CEO of AMD has done alright, but she didn’t work at Denny’s.
my engineering school roomie was a Vietnamese boat person. He told me of the years in a refugee camp shampooing with laundry detergent. After the European countries came and scooped up the young and healthy, Americans came and picked up the rest he said.
His high school counselor advised him not to pursue engineering. It was too hard a major.
Boy did he prove her wrong. He was smart and studied hard. The midnight oil burned brightly on his desk. He was a modest person who never tired of helping us struggling room mates.
I think he graduated in the top 10%, if not 5% of our class.
America gained a great engineer alright.
On a different subject, my friend initially named his first construction firm “Acorn Construction.” Years later, after it had grown into a substantial business, he rebranded it as “Oak Developments.”
It is a glorious privilege to have a passion in life that you can turn into a career. Mine was television news, which I had wanted since meeting Chicago newscast legend Bill Kurtis at age 13. My career as a TV sportscaster left me broke and unhealthy from long hours, low pay and stress, but I also had priceless experiences with wondrous people that provided me with a lifetime’s worth of memories and stories to tell — and gave me the groundwork for a successful second career. We are the lucky ones, Cecelia, in a world where most people just go to a job every day to pay the bills.
How fantastic that met Bill Kurtis you were able to follow the dream meeting him inspired! Yes, I agree that we are lucky and privileged to have followed our passions. I’d pick this path again in a heartbeat!
Yesterday I indulged myself with a massage after an emotionally challenging month only to experience a chatty masseuse who shared his many wild conspiracy theories and political views. Your article was just the “palate cleanser” I needed from that this morning! Thank you, Cecelia.
I’m sorry you had that experience; but am glad my article provided a reset!
It is perfectly permissible to tell your masseur that you prefer a massage in silence — and to request another practitioner if your instructions are ignored.
I don’t know why I didn’t ask him to stop talking. It’s still puzzling. I was disappointed in myself because I usually am a clear communicator. Like Jeff, I only go once a year or so, which made it even more of a disappointment all the way around.
I met a new friend for coffee the morning after writing my post about my massage. My experience was disturbing enough that I shared it with her, who then told me of her own experience which coincidentally had occurred that same day. She said she would not have said anything to me or possibly anyone if I hadn’t shared my story first. It is apparent that there is a more serious problem at play here. I feel this answers my own question of why I didn’t speak up and shut down the chatter. Had I done that, I may not have been disturbed enough to mention it to anyone and the seriousness of the situation may not have been uncovered. Things happen for a reason sometimes.
I agree. I get a massage every year or so – – – and I want it under my conditions. I would immediately request quiet if I had a “chatty masseuse”.
By allowing yourself such an open path, Cecilia, you will certainly find purpose in retirement. I, like you, have a doctorate in the sciences — and the awe you describe of the natural world never goes away! Retirement has been wonderful in providing the freedom to explore that world and reflect more deeply than during my working years.
I haven’t set a retirement date yet – I thought it was going to be 2024, but I’ve put it off for a year or two. What you say about having “the freedom to explore the world and reflect more deeply” is something I’m craving, and is hard to find time for during the academic year.
Thank you for this uplifting article to start my day.
Best, Bill
Thank you for sharing. So few of us stop to embrace the giants that came before us. E.O. Wilson, S.J. Gould, R. Dawkins, and Lewis Thomas come to mind as some of many essayists that opened up the minds of many to the biological sciences, which in turn led to careers where it never felt like “work”.
What a great list! While he wasn’t a biologist, I’d add Carl Sagan. Such a great communicator of science to non-scientists. I remember watching Cosmos as a child and being absolutely mesmerized.
The purpose of retirement is to be different from working. You will find your joy in retirement just let it happen, don’t let it become a project.
Well, it won’t be a project in the sense that I’m not thinking about it as something onerous that has to ‘get done’. But I do love mulling the possibilities!
Thank you for an excellent article. I worked for myself for thirty years and was also blessed with the feeling of never truly “working.” I like your thinking on the retirement interests conundrum—throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks. I wonder what surprises await you?
I expect there will be a lot of surprises; I think that will be part of the fun!