Recently, I witnessed several people retire from their work. It seems like a coincidence that these milestone events occurred to many people I know around the same time. Because of this, I had the privilege of experiencing their transitions closely.
At the beginning of their retirement announcements about a year ago, they seemed beyond excited and more than ready to start a relaxed pace of life. They were tired and ready to take the break they had been waiting for. Then, interestingly, close to the actual retirement date, there was much more of a sense of loss and sadness. It even came as a surprise to them. While they were happy to move on, there was a grieving process of saying goodbye to their identities after doing that particular work for decades.
Last week, I attended a retirement party for a piano professor at a university where many former students gathered and celebrated his 45-year teaching career. Everyone shared their stories, expressed gratitude for having him as a teacher and mentor, and celebrated his achievements. Even though I didn’t study with him, I felt a conflicted emotion of sadness and joy for him. Strangely, it all felt like your own funeral that you could actually attend, listening to people’s experiences of you in person. It was beautiful and nostalgic at the same time.
The professor shared his feelings with the attendees and said,
“I’ve learned three things as a teacher. Firstly, the ultimate goal of a teacher is to help students become independent thinkers. The less I was needed in the end, the better job I was doing in the process. Also, you need to have a sense of humor when teaching. Don't take everything too seriously. Lastly, teaching was the hardest yet the most rewarding job I've ever done in my life.”
I couldn’t help but imagine what my transition would look like in the future or what my funeral would look like. What would people say about me?
No matter what the profession was for all these new retirees, I sensed similarities between them, which made me reflect on several thoughts regarding retirement and life.
Firstly, giving love and being of service to someone seems to be a vital ingredient in feeling connected and fulfilled through one’s career and beyond.
Secondly, it seems important to understand that the transition process is not as easy as they first perceived and is often emotional. Because of that, I found that those who reflect on their past and make a conscious effort to write or share their emotions with others seem to be healthier. Whether through a conversation with a close friend or a big retirement party, it seems good to reflect and embrace the loss of identity.
Lastly, a reminder that what you do is not who you are. I question myself, if I can’t play piano anymore, I can’t teach piano anymore, or I can’t do anything I do currently anymore, does it mean I am not Jeeyoon?
Music makes me happy, and a musical life fits me well. However, Jeeyoon inside is the same no matter what I do as a profession. The idea that I am not what I do frees me from my own cocoon. It is easy to attach my identity as a pianist, but I will probably have to remind myself over and over again that I will always be who I am, regardless.
Like Buddha said,
In the end, only three things matter: How much have you loved? How gently you lived? How gracefully you let go of things?
A close friend of mine who has been retired for several years told me that she is the happiest these days. What she enjoys the most is the slow morning routine, where there is the freedom to design your own flow for the day.
Have you witnessed someone’s retirement closely? Or experienced it yourself? Please share your tips on this unique transition or what you enjoy the most about your retirement. I will make sure to pass your tips on to those new retirees in my circle.
Have a wonderful week!
💕Jeeyoon
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