A Day In The Life of an Early Retiree
I think it might be Wednesday? What do I do on Wednesday?
I’m sitting in a small coffee shop attached to my public library as I write this. I watch the comings and goings of local college students, older retirees, stay-at-home parents with small children, remote workers, the under-employed, and the homeless. And then there’s me - sitting in my little corner, quietly observing everyone. I think it might be Wednesday.
The public library is an interesting mingling of the time rich, the money rich, and the rare person who is rich in both.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but I feel like the younger set - the time rich - dress more fashionably and order more expensively than do the money rich, who sit unnoticed with their book or with a friend, wearing understated clothes, and nursing a cheap cup of tea. Then again, maybe I’m just being sanctimonious.
It’s a very typical weekday (is it Wednesday?) for me since I retired early almost 2 years ago, and so far it’s just as I like it - a slow morning, sipping a cold brew in one of my favorite spots, with busy people around me who leave me to do my own thing.
“My own thing” these days is mostly focused on various family projects and my own personal growth and development.
The latest family project is a multi-year journey to Italian Citizenship (and a second passport) through my wife’s great grandfather. Since travel is such a large part of our future plans, we like the idea of being able to stay in Europe for as long as we want. I hope it works out.
My personal growth projects vary. Right now, I’m mainly focused on learning yoga and managing my own scarcity mindset. Both demand the same thing - stretching and balance - well, in their own way.
I finish my coffee and start my move from the cafe to a table in the library. It’s a different vibe than the cafe, though it’s only twenty-five feet down the hall. I scan the room for an available table with a power outlet, which is odd since my laptop is fully charged and will run for hours beyond my time here.
When I retired, the idea of “do we have enough?” has been a recurring insecurity. Honestly, it was an insecurity even when I was working.
It occurs to me as I look for a table with power to plug in my fully charged devices that maybe this quirk in my behavior to hog available power is rooted in the same insecurity about money?
I have the thought that if I intentionally choose a table without power, it would be a nice low stakes exercise in personal growth - a way to strengthen my scarcity muscles as I swing on life’s trapeze without a net.
I’m suddenly three hours into my slow morning at the library. A random phone goes off with a familiar ring tone. A too familiar ring tone. One from my past when my phone regularly exposed me to one crisis after another.
A brief shot of stress races from my ears into my chest, but then I remember it’s my kind of Wednesday. Yes, it’s definitely a Wednesday, I think. It used to be “hump” day, but that term has little meaning for me now.
I gently remind myself - there are no slack or text messages pulling me into a last-minute fire drill.
There is no backlog of email to get through.
There is no drama, no “he said/she said.”
No manager calling to ask me to give up my weekend for something urgent, or to complain about an email I sent.
No rush-hour commute, other than the 8 miles from my home to this peaceful space.
I draw in a deep breath and, along with it, some positive energy - thank you yoga.
I refocus on why I’m here - to jot down some things on my blog that have been on my mind lately. My fingers find my keyboard. My mind finds its groove. I begin to type…
I'm sitting in a small coffee shop attached to my public library...
Totally relate to the scarcity mindset, even down to the unnecessary power hogging. Never equated those two things, but I think you're spot on. As for proactively working on that mindset, I like that I idea. I've essentially just been trying to wish it away . . . which isn't working particularly well. Yoga (and/or meditation) are things I've long told myself I oughta try. I think now's the time.
Hey, Allen. As the old saying goes--are you reading my mail? I really get this--the long, slow progress away from a scarcity mindset. Out of anxiety. Out of fear in general. Thanks for the post.