My First (and Hopefully Only) 100 Days of “Midlife Retirement” Needs a Spring Awakening

This piece was published on the Globe & Mail's First Person column on April 2.

Read the article here.

March 14 marked a milestone I hoped to never see: 100 days of unemployment.

Hold for sad applause.

I was let go from my role in October, but given the choice to stay until December. I worked with lots of people outside the organization and did not want to leave them high and dry. But December 4th was my last day, then I was cut adrift.

When I shared this news, several friends reached out to say they were in the same boat (as well as roughly 7 percent of Ontarians). Our new full-time job was to find a new full-time job.

Do they make a mug for this? 

One friend took the optimistic route and called this time a “mid-life retirement.” Surely joining in an upbeat frame of mind could only manifest positive outcomes.

“Midlife retirement” sounded like an exciting mini-break from the worries and woes of the workday world. Maybe one or two Ferris Bueller-style larks. Maybe some cozy cafe visits to break up the day. Maybe some snowbird activities. Our regular visits to the southern shores of the U.S. have been halted during the current administration, which sadly had interrupted our regularly scheduled cruise activities. 

This winter, I embraced the cool offerings of the season: slowing down, noise cancellation and hibernation. While others brushed away snow and de-iced their sidewalks, I watched from the inside despite being on the outside.

Small changes took affect in this new way of life: my sleep was better, I drank more water, and I monitored my screen time. I scheduled my days to match the hours of my work-from-home husband, not wanting to disturb his flow. Being at home all day was the same retreat of an extra long weekend or a sick day as a child. I dressed comfortably, brewed my coffee and sat at my makeshift office space to work at defrosting my current status with something that stirred that excitement like an eager new graduate.

This winter was my chance for reflection - what do I want out of the next phase of my life? I worked with a career coach (which I highly recommend doing) and was constantly encouraged by my husband and close friends to pursue new avenues. Serious thoughts and meditations went into my new definition. 

I thought about my funeral - the unfortunate next step for retirees - and didn't want my career to be the thing I was known for. That scared me in my last job and I needed to shed that worry before taking on a new role. I would give the same effort as someone who likes that definition, but I wanted my other actions and activities to be what people spoke to after I was gone. But also while I'm here. 

But to afford that, one needs a job to help make those definitions clear, no?

As snow fell and accumulated, so did the job applications. I delivered at least two a day. The days melded together, feeling like the long weekend I was trying to avoid. The dastardly winter conditions were only faced for dog walks and grocery runs.

Was I thrusted back into the Covid-19 pandemic days?

No cafe visits to work from as my laptop was on its last thread, literally. The screen disconnected from the keyboard, so my roaming technology was now stationary. And no trips away - full-time job hunting does not offer PTO, let alone a surplus for new office equipment. With each day one closer to the big 4-0, my grand ideas shrink and adapt to prioritizing the needs of my current circumstance. My upcoming 40th birthday plans are at a standstill.

I thought I would turn 40 before hitting 40 applications, but that milestone has also passed. My inbox received the odd automated response from hiring teams thanking me for my time, however…

Was I in a country song about first-world millennial problems? It felt like a movie sequence where a leading character stands still while the world moves rapidly around them.

In these moments, my friends and family have been a constant support system. Just offering an ear is helpful - one feels seen and heard despite having nothing to offer beyond the mundane activities of job hunting. 

This week's false start to spring kept like a sign of the changing tides. The warmer temperatures and fresher air opened my eyes to the ridiculousness of my complaints. They sound selfish, petty and small by comparison to the major atrocities that are occurring around the world. But my current focus is finding how to be a contributing member of society, whatever that looks like.

I have been focusing wholly on the ice block that froze over my midlife retirement. What comes after the ice melts is anyone's guess, but the new start to the season is a symbol of rebirth, rewiring and growth. Like the budding of new flowers and leaves, it is time to prepare for the world's thaw and look at what's waiting for me. 

“In winter, I plot and plan. In spring, I move.” — Henry Rollins

Retirement is not for me - not just yet.