I never expected to be wide awake by 2:00 AM on Day 4 of being retired. Nor did I expect finally slowing down to be a thing. Yet, there I was, staring at the ceiling while the entire world slumbered. It wasn’t until I made my way to the window that I saw something I hadn’t expected: snow in the mountains of Virginia.
These quiet, early-morning snows seem to bring a stillness, a sense of peace to everything. Unfortunately, I don’t feel very peaceful right now. After three and a half days of battling this cold—or flu, or whatever bug decided to set up housekeeping—I’ve run out of steam.
It’s incredible how an illness can transform what were once ordinary everyday tasks into monumental challenges. Even though I’ve only been retired for four days, I’m already tired of feeling drained.
It wasn’t long before I came to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t be able to walk to the mailbox today. Normally, I try to get in at least one mile each way just so I can maintain a certain level of honesty about my step count. Today? I drove it. That’s right; I literally drove a mile to the mailbox and back. And to be honest, that was probably all the energy I had for the day.
My lunch was uncomplicated: a bowl of Campbell’s Chicken & Rice soup. Not fine dining, perhaps, but warm, familiar, and exactly what I needed. There are times when comfort food does more for our emotional health than we might give it credit for. I’m still learning to accept self-care, but that’s what I think I did.
The couch then began calling my name, and I lay down “just for a minute.” Before I knew it, that minute had become a two-hour nap. The type of nap that leaves you dazed, unsure of which day it is, or questioning if you have slept through something important. Once again, this reinforced my perception that I am not as healthy as I thought.
Here’s the truth:
Day 4 wasn’t productive.
It wasn’t inspiring.
It wasn’t exciting.
But it was real.
Not every day in retirement will be a grand adventure or a perfectly executed plan. Some days will simply be slow, quiet, low-energy, and centered around recovering from an illness. And maybe that’s okay. Perhaps this stage of my life is about recognizing what my body needs and giving myself permission to take the slower day when it comes along. And I spent a few minutes trying to rest, without thinking of self-care as a label for what I was doing.
Tomorrow will be the day I can rise and shine with more energy. Either the cold will finally leave and find another place to live, or I will spend more quality time with the couch.
Regardless, today had its own unique purpose: rest. While I am searching for the big-picture plan for my retirement, I know that what’s happened in my first 2/3 of a week of retirement is far from what I should anticipate going forward.
And although I’ve never been a huge fan of resting, I’m beginning to realize that rest counts too.
