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This morning, while sipping coffee in my sunroom, a simple thought occurred – one of those rare insights, I don’t have them often! It struck me that since retiring, my morning brew has become more enjoyable. After mulling it over, I pinpointed the reason: time. More specifically, the luxury of extra time to truly savour and embrace the entire coffee experience.
This revelation isn’t confined to my coffee cup. It’s weaving its way into other aspects of my life too. Take my garden, for instance. It’s very large, but now, tending to it has transformed from a chore into a genuine pleasure.
Even my racket sports feel different. Before, I’d squeeze in games during rushed evenings. Now, playing in the morning, with no pressure or looming deadlines, is simply glorious. The entire experience is better. And something as mundane as driving in heavy traffic? It barely registers now. An extra ten minutes here or there is genuinely neither here nor there.
In essence, I seem to have unintentionally become intentional. It’s as if I’ve been handed the keys to a slower, richer pace of life without even realizing I was looking for them.
So, tell me, my fellow Humble Dollar readers – have you been keeping this secret from the rest of the world? This ability of living life on your own terms, of reclaiming time not just to fill it, but to truly experience it?
And just while I’m at it…. Can someone please tell me why you all call coffee Joe????
Along with all the retirees I know I sometimes wonder how I found time for everything when I was working. Now, if I have a doctor’s appointment, that’s the morning (or afternoon in my case).
I think you have captured the essence of retirement! Bob
I always assumed “cuppa joe” was military slang because the only place I ever heard it was in old war movies!
My relationship to time is different from most people’s. I spent the first 19 years of my professional career in an environment where the relationship was incredibly intense — the TV newsroom. Deadlines and story times (“hey Mike, I need you to cut 15 seconds from that package!”) ruled my every thought and action.
I went directly from that to PR consulting, where immediate time mattered little — whether I got my work done at 10am or 2pm or the day after tomorrow didn’t matter as long as it got done. It took me a while to adjust.
My relationship to time changed again a decade ago when I was struck by a then-untreatable cancer, when time became something to savor and embrace as Mark does his coffee, and I realized how ridiculous my OCD-esque relationship to “being on time” had always been.
After my wildly unlikely survival, I tried to hold onto that more laissez-faire attitude towards time, but over the years I gradually found myself slipping back into my old habit of stressing about it when it didn’t really matter.
Now a reminder has come crashing in with the return of that old enemy, the shocking diagnosis of a family member with terminal cancer. Suddenly nothing matters but those few minutes of strolling with the dog or watching the birds in the yard or (literally) smelling the roses… with her.
And the other three of us find ourselves hardly glancing at the clock, having no idea what time it is, because it doesn’t matter one damn bit.
My official retirement date is July 1, but having turned in my spring quarter grades last weekend, I’m at least unofficially off the clock. I’m having a similar revelation with both coffee and bedtime. The other night I was reading a good book and kept going instead of turning off the light at 10 p.m. (that would be 22:00 for you!). Normally I’d think I had to go to sleep so I could get up early, get my workout in, and be at my desk by a certain time. But then I thought, well, what if I don’t get up quite as early? What if my usual regimented morning is pushed back by an hour or even two? So what?
Similarly, a couple of mornings ago I spent a couple of hours dawdling over my coffee before heading to my Peloton bike. Again—because I could. Now, I do save my second cup of coffee for after my ride and shower because, well, I don’t want that coffee to kick in right as I’m clipped in on the bike! 😳
It all feels very luxurious and decadent. I feel like I’ve been racing the clock and the calendar for decades. I’m wired to be anxious, and I think not always being so pressed for time is going to be my favorite thing about being retired.
As for the cup of “joe,” my husband is a talented musician and wrote a song that’s on one of his albums called “A Strong Cup of Joe.” It’s about two people who start chatting in a bar at night about the ups and downs of life. The chorus goes:
Everybody has their highs and lows
Feast or famine, that’s the way this world goes
So let’s swap some stories, it just might lighten the load
The wheel of fortune turns and never stops
Enjoy the ride, nobody stays at the top
Tonight it’s beer and bourbon, tomorrow it’s a strong cup of joe.
(c) Randy Ferris 2016
I know that doesn’t answer your question, but I thought I’d share!