When I was in college my best friend and roommate used to say, “I can’t wait to be a grandmother.” I always thought that was the strangest comment to come out of the mouth of an eighteen year old. I remember laughing and saying, “what about the forty years in between now and then?” After all, why the big hurry to get to the end. Isn’t life supposed to be all about the journey?
But now only ten years later, I find myself reconsidering those sentiments. After all, if life is all about the journey than how come I’m rushing to save for an early retirement. Why do I scour financial articles, buy investment books, and try to pinch and scrimp my way to a larger bank account?
I want to find a more meaningful career. My best friends in college are now teachers and social workers. They feel fulfilled and satisfied in helping others. In comparison their paychecks are probably a 1/3 of mine, but they are happy going to work every day.
My uncle, a sixty year old professor, has no plans to retire. I think he teaches classes only 2 1/2 days a week. He teaches subjects he adores, to students eager to learn, who wouldn’t want to continue doing that?
It seems like life is all about being in a hurry. Women in particular seem to propel this notion. We’re are in a hurry to get married. We’re in a hurry to have children. And if we’re not in a hurry, we have other women telling us to hurry up, before time runs out.
After getting sick last year, I swore that I would take life a little slower. And I think for the most part I have been succeeding at this task. I’ve had a lot of time to think while laying in a hospital bed as the world moved on without me. I considered changing careers and switching jobs. I still consider it everyday.
But for now I keep telling myself that making a lot of money at my age will provide me with an abundance of freedom in the future. So instead of feeling like I’m racing to the end of the finish line, I feel like I’m running to the start of a new race.
When the new race begins I hope to create my own rules and call the race however I want to. Maybe instead of running everyone has to skip or hop their way to the end. Maybe. I guess I’ll have to wait and see, and in the mean time make the most of my journey outside of the 9 to 5 hours.