My wife seems intent on watching me. Over the last couple of weeks, she has said many times:
- “I am worried about you”,
- “why did you do that?”,
- “why did you go this way?”
Last night, after I went to the bedroom to be quiet and read a bit, the door slowly opened and there she was looking at me again. She started talking, “what do you do in here?”, “you have been distant”. Frankly, I am not used to being under daily examination for little things – so I don’t like it when she tilts her head and looks at me quizzically and the only thing I can do is chuckle and shrug my shoulders.
But, there is a difference in me now that I have stumbled into retirement. I am learning how to “be” without a consistent, ragging struggle in my head. The struggle that was always reflected on my face is that of an entrepreneur, because half of my brain was always solving the next problem I felt coming. So it may take a while for her to get used to the blank expression on my face. I am not sure when my face last reflected this inside-out confusion, but it was probably sometime around 1976. That was my first big life transition and I can remember feeling stuck between two worlds.
The world from which I was leaving was that coming-of-age-time, when you and all your friends are simply invincible. By chronology, I was supposed to be an adult, but that invincibility held on to the child-like ways of discovery and double-dare-you.
We didn’t need sleep, we only needed music and plenty of fuel for the enjoyment of the same. Vinyl (most of which I still have) played constantly in our living experience through a Yamaha amp and great Jensen speakers. But adulthood was calling and the “urge to merge” was felt all around us. She was there then, my current watcher.
Starting at 26 years young, the physical transition into adulthood was complete, and the psychological eventually followed. I knew we were a good team and I knew something was waiting for me. A year later that confused look disappeared from my face, because I was determined to accomplish something, even though I really didn’t know what “it” would be. But, I got focused on “it”.
Being from the land of coal, steel and long necked beers of eastern Ohio, I understood hard work. Over the next 15 years or so of career growth, I worked 55-60 hours a week and stayed focused. During that time, I learned I would never to be satisfied without the opportunity to build a company that reflected my principals and values.
For nearly four decades, we have teamed up to follow a very traditional married couples-family path and worked together to achieve our shared objectives. I was the hunter, she was the farmer and our life together has worked well. Through three dogs, one cat, building a house, raising a child and the challenges of business ownership, we have done well and I am extremely grateful for the life we created.
But the confused look has returned to my face, but it’s now framed with gray hair and includes signs of wisdom. It is again a time of transition.
This time I am not leaving a world, but a new phase of adulthood has found me.
- A slower pace of life awaits, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
- I know I don’t want the angst of being a business leader anymore, but then who will I become?
- How do I contribute to being “me”?
- Can our house accommodate two farmers?
- Will anyone like me just because I am Bill?
- Damn, I am no longer invincible.
So, who am I now?
