Retirement in Panama December 11, 2008
Posted by Ken Newton in : Life in Panama , trackbackWhat a great morning. It is as expected, about 22 degrees C, a few clouds, sun starting to shine on the slopes of the Volcan Baru and the Calderra mountain range. The whole cacophony of so many birds that we still do not recognize. In a few minutes, the beauty of the morning will be shattered by the movement of squirrels making their way into the fruit trees in front of the house, and my time of silent awe will be replaced by unuttered curses and despise of these hairy rats. I will then spend the next 30 minutes thinking of ways to smuggle my pellet gun into the country disguised as tube of toothpaste. For now, all I can do is throw stones and yell obscenities and derive some small satisfaction of a near miss…
We love this place. We love to wake up in the morning. I remember not all that long ago waking up each day exhausted after a restless night’s sleep, thoughts of problems at work first on my mind. I remember going to bed the night before thinking I might better stay awake to make the hours pass by slower so as not to bring on the new day. I remember conversations with Lynda that had nothing to do with her emotions or interests. All while sucking down a coffee that I would question ever having within a few minutes. I certainly took no interest in the sounds and life and innocence of the new day, and for not doing that, denied God any voice in shaping the day ahead and quieting a troubled mind.
Here in Panama it is different. I am wrestling somewhat with the argument that these changes are only possible as point of retirement. Retirement has been one of those words that I ponder only in relation to my dad - how he had targeted age 65 as the official date of retirement, and that, until then, he would work hard and long every day (and often night) as his life’s highest priority. I don’t dispute that he loved what he did, even as a corporate executive working for pennies on fat company margins. But I somehow have to think that, for all that he found good in life, it fell short of the real meaning of the day.
Most days, within the context of these new experiences of pace and interests, I find myself asking if this is retirement. I despise the question, and that I am actually trying to rationalize who I am, who I am with, where I am, what I do, as a state of retirement. Simply, this is not. Correctly, this is an adjustment by choice. Choices that have not been easy along the way. Many choices that have felt like loss and forfeiture. Choices that would not seem rational, at least not in having defined terms of livelihood. Choices that have brought about changes for which I still do not have an understanding or a corresponding system.
So, I find myself in a state of adjustment. For what we don’t have anymore, we worry less. For the hard changes of language and culture, we are invigorated by the challenges. For the movement away from self-interest, we see people and need differently. Instead of return on investment, we act impulsively. Where we fought for those limited moments of crash and burn, we experience quiet and company by choice. We savor health and range of emotions that are influenced not by our pseudo-work identity, but within the priorities that we define independently, and as we apply non-religious faith to the unknowns of this season.
Retirement is sole confinement, darkness, isolation, denouement. This is not my setting or experience. I am not counting days (although I do lose track of dates), nor am I waiting for the next sliver of light or plate of food under the door. As we are settling into life in Panama, we are finally seeing clear for what should have been until now, and not for what isn’t left in life.
I wish I could find the way to tell you how incredible this really is!
Comments»
I have been waiting for additional reports on your new life in Panama,
as I am considering a simlar venture. I enjoy reading of your first hand experiences as I anticipate encuntering many of the same problems when I transition to Panama.
Bill Cook
Friend of Sam and Reenie