It is time for contemplation and review.  This month, I have been retired for over 8 years from my private practice and 7 years from my addiction work.  That is a long time.  Am I the same person that I was 8 years ago? No.  Are my goals the same? No. Am I happy?  Yes!

Things change over time.  Important things become less important, less important things become more important.  Life goes on.  I think that I’m doing well, and part of my success is in allowing myself to change.  I know some people who are constantly battling to be the same person that they were 10 or 20 years ago.  Good luck to them, but I think that is a futile and frustrating objective.

I love to cycle, and there is nothing wrong with doing so on an e-bike!

As I have aged, I have faced more challenges, not all of them being personal.  My wife developed a serious illness that impacts her daily. This has altered what we can do together, but it hasn’t eliminated those activities.  We have had to become more mindful of our actions as we accept her limitations.  More on that later in this post. 

I have always urged people to discover their core interests because understanding these basics makes adapting to and modifying one’s life much simpler. For me, I have three simple drives: I love to learn, I love to teach, and I love to create.  Those basic drives can be filled in countless ways.  For instance, in the past, I loved learning the neurobiology and biochemistry of a new drug.  Today, my learning may be researching the biochemistry of various bread-making enhancers, as I make much of my own bread. These two topics are more similar than you may think and are equally satisfying to my brain.

Baking my own bread has become a fun activity.

I love to teach, as anyone who knows me will attest.  Sharing information with others makes knowledge grow and expand.  Helping someone understand something is an absolutely wonderful feeling.  It is exciting to see another person’s eyes light up when they connect the dots.  How many live in ignorance, how powerful it is to understand. One of my recent teaching efforts has been through this blog.  With inflation and the Trump tariff taxes, many are struggling. I have been posting simple recipes to encourage others to cook from scratch with an emphasis on flexibility.  Those who have not cooked may be afraid to do so, fearing they will not do things perfectly; my posts emphasize that perfection is not the goal (none of us are Martha Stewart). The goal is to be “good enough.” 

I love to teach, and most recently, I have been teaching people how to cook from scratch.

I’m always creating something; it is in my blood.  My creations can be as simple as cooking a nice meal or as complicated as relearning how to create and build an entire website, a project that I just completed for a friend.  Certain creative interests never leave me, for instance, my obsession with photography.  I love discovering beauty that others miss.  I’m fascinated by using angles and light to transform a boring image into something interesting.  I continue to do some professional photography, but I also relish the joy of my personal photography. Recently, I saw a YouTube video from a guy who travels to small towns to take photos.  “OMG,” I thought, “That’s me, too!” It turns out this person has a photo club that meets in the town right next to mine.  I’m excited to attend my first meeting, but it is also a stretch for me.  I’m what you call a functional extrovert.  I know what extroverts do, and I can mimic their behavior.  I have no problem giving a lecture to 200 people.  I have no problem being assertive. I have no problem dealing with conflict.  However, those activities are not part of my nature.  I do them because they are necessary life skills, so I have taught myself how to do them. However, going to a club where I will be the only new person is a challenge for me, because it isn’t necessary.  My true nature is more introverted.  I don’t want to impose.  I don’t want to be pushy.  “What if they don’t like me?”  “What if they don’t like my photography style?” I worry about such things.  However, I know that growth sometimes requires discomfort.  I have never let discomfort stop me in life, and I’m not about to now that I’m retired.

That said, I think self-acceptance is also critically important. During my professional years, I would see other doctors connecting with health professionals on a personal level, not because they wanted to, but because it was a sound business decision. I could never do that as it felt fake and dishonest. Eventually, I came to accept myself. I couldn’t schmooze my way to success; I would have to do it on the quality of my work alone. In the end, that was enough. 

I feel similarly now.  I am who I am.  I will never be the person with a million friends.  However, I will be the person with a handful of very close connections.  I like to invest in those people that I love, and that takes a lot of energy and effort.  Having a handful of people who I genuinely care for who feel similarly about me is more than enough. I am blessed in this regard.

In this 8th year of retirement, I am still drawn to nature. I was recently telling a friend that one of my greatest joys is Violet, my adventure van. In 2018, my friend, Tom, and I converted a raw-cargo van into a camper, designed for the wilderness. She is capable of generating her own electricity, purifying her own water, and can remain habitable in just about any situation, from a hot desert to a Midwestern winter.  Violet has shown that an old guy like me can find joy in creating the “clubhouse” he never had but wanted as a 12-year-old.  It is never too late!

Tom and I built out Violet, the adventure van, in 2018, but she still gives me great joy!

My wife has been more willing to adventure with me over the last few years.  We had a couple of rough starts as her illness left her more immobile, and some of our trips ended abruptly with a visit to the ER.  However, we are now adapting to her limitations and are having success on our adventures. Remember, our measure of success is what we can do now, not what we could do when we were 20. We are planning and hoping for more adventures this year.

Hiking in the Arizona desert.

I have also realized I don’t have to do everything I “should” do. We should be doing some upgrades to our home, basic things like changing out our carpets, and updating our kitchen cabinets.  These are massive jobs, as they involve moving tons of junk to get the job done.  Suddenly, I had the realization that I didn’t have to do those things.  Everything in my home is functional, so I can leave it as is.  We are not slated to be on the cover of “Better Homes and Gardens.”  I’m not saying I won’t upgrade; I’m just saying I no longer feel the urgency to tackle these laborious jobs. 

I have taken over most of our basic household tasks, from cleaning to grocery shopping, as my wife is still working.  When she eventually retires, I’ll turn over some of those tasks back to her. I don’t find these jobs too menial.  They are a necessary part of life and therefore are important in their own right. 

Over my retirement I have shifted from an accomplishment mode to a connection mode.  I have invested heavily in those I love and that has been one of the wisest investments that I have ever made.  I have invested in my family, my extended family, and my friends. These connections have given me countless joy and a true sense of purpose. Having the time to do this has been the greatest gift from retirement. These connections are likely the main reason why I am so happy and content during my retirement years.

Well, that is my 8 year update.  Peace and blessing to you, my blog friends.  May you find joy in the simplest things and awareness of the beauty that is all around you.

Mike