I had a fair amount of energy early in life. Didn’t need much sleep, was up to stacking a wagon of hay in the miserable summer heat, did college without a car and walked all over creation as a result. Same with law school–work all day, in school five nights a week, who needs a car? Then something changed–single motherhood, thyroid disease, various anemias… I’m not sure what, but the energizer bunny became beta fish Grace, at least physically.
Fast forward to now, when I have long since realized that I don’t bounce. If I have a bad night of sleep, it’s going to take several good nights to recharge. If I over-exert myself at the barn, same. I can putter around at low RPMs pretty much all day, but the big step count days will come at a cost.
And yet, I always find the energy to show up at the barn for my appointed shifts. I come home tired and I don’t enjoy the commute, but I go, I toddle around and around with those horses, and I consider it time well spent.
Why? I often have fun, but not always (see the saddle that slipped sideways). I often feel useful and appreciated, which is lovely, but I think the trade off that keeps me coming back (besides horses! and barn buddies!), is that I leave the barn grateful. I can walk, I can use my words, I can regulate my bodily functions, I can regulate (most of) my emotions. Some of our riders didn’t get ANY of those high cards. So I go, I walk miles in the arena and on the trails, and I come home beat but grateful and humbled.
I go for walks around my neighborhood, and that often leaves me pooped as well (do not even think about mentioning how exercise can energize, because I will smite you with my figurative sword). Where I live, the scenery is wonderful. Much of the year is abundantly green, and even when green has gone on hiatus, the wildlife, livestock, and beautiful countryside refresh my mind. I occasionally run into a neighbor while I’m boulevardiering, and even a short chat bolsters my sense of community good will.
If I have all the energy in the world, but little gratitude, or little appreciation for natural beauty, or no occasions to feel humbled, I am in much worse straits than if I am physically whupped for a couple of days a week but have good nourishment for my heart and soul. I am extraordinarily lucky that I can make my living at a sedentary activity I enjoy tremendously, while I’m also able to use what juice I have to earn the very precious sustenance that money cannot buy.
What do you need or enjoy that money cannot buy, and what trade-offs do you make to keep it in your life?
I worked in my garden today. In upstate NY, it’s time to start preparing for the colder months. It makes me happy to think about the new creations that will begin again in the spring… Along with the black spot that I have to stay vigilant with. Ill be feeling my efforts tomorrow for sure!!!
I’m about a week behind you. The roses by the summer kitchen are still coming up with a few blooms, but any night now, they will get nipped. Then my clippers come out, the gloves go on, and I Get After The Flower Beds. The house always looks so bleak when I’m done with that exercise. Tidy, but bleak.
I need solitude and quiet and time for myself. The biggest trade-off was when I was working and did not continually strive for the brass ring. Yes, I would have liked to make more money but I only really need enough to keep my bills paid and have a little left over for emergencies. I did not grow up going on vacation (as I’ve said before, as an Air Force family, the closest to vacation we had was driving to Dad’s new base and visiting relatives if they were close enough to drive easily) so I don’t miss it. Many people did not understand that I got my master’s degree for myself, not for a job, and would rather leave work at 5pm than work 80 hours a week. As the saying goes, I worked to live but I did not live to work.
What you said. Somebody told me about an event being held today that I would probably enjoy, but I was out among the madding crowd for hours yesterday. I NEED to stay home today. If I don’t ration my doses of time among people, I get down and cranky. I’m off to a conference later this month, and that’s going to deplete my solitude tank all the way to the bottom.
My walk is the thing I enjoy that money can’t buy.
I love looking for the heron in the marsh, listening to the birds and watching for the kestrel. The autumn colors are bright and showy this week.
I hurt my back on Tuesday morning. Heating pad, Ben bay and stretches for me this week. I had planned a walk on each day of my vacation. Instead I read a few books and caught upon Netflix.
I definitely miss my walk. It’s my time.
Spending time with the dogs was a plus this week. Greg did not see the work bag so there was no stress.
Feeling better this morning and hoping to walk in the am.
My mom was diehard walker. It took me years to realize that part of what she got on those walks was a balance between a break from my dad (who never went for walks later in life), novelty in the occasional encounter with strangers and neighbors, exercise to manage anxiety, and solitude. Pretty big return for an hour’s effort, and she lived into 90s too!
I need lots of down time to recharge. I do not do well with a lot of interactions with others. Not pre-illness, and especially not now with a chronic illness. I’m fortunate that my career was something I could do in the dark and solitude, which was lovely.
I have said it a zillion times: It’s a good thing I can make my living sitting on my backside, alone, at home, because I need to do a lot of exactly that. I suspect much of the science that says we must be SOCIAL later in life, and have lots of CONNECTIONS, and GET OUT is based on samples skewed toward men (like the Harvard study of MEN’s happiness.) For all kinds of reasons, the goose might need a different prescription than the gander. Says me.
Extra comment: I also think those reports saying we must be social for our good health in later life are very much skewed towards extroverts, like much of our society these days. I for one hated working in open cubicles though studies showed there was more interaction with co-workers and that that was a good thing. I just got distracted listening to everybody else. I was always at my best in my own office, not matter how small as long as there was a door I could close. I’m not very social in my retirement but I do not feel any lack. I read constantly and live very different lives therefore. And I occasionally comment on blogs and send emails to favorite authors and occasionally I get answers back! That’s enough peopling for me.
Reading keeps me sane. I listen in the car, read and knit at the same time, fall asleep with a book in my hand. I’ve instituted a mandatory 10 minutes of silent reading at the start of all of my middle school lit classes, come hell or high water. No book reports, no response journals -just read a physical book every day. It is the thing the kids mention most at conferences-they are proud of the books they have read and like the opportunity to go into other worlds safely.
Just like Anne below, reading and listening to books keeps me sane. Now that I’m retired, my daily treat is starting my day reading in bed with a mug of cocoa at my side. When I’m puttering in the kitchen or quilting, an audiobook is always playing. Ditto while driving on short or long trips. They give me such pleasure. I’m grumpy when I have to start my day rushing about.
Also like Anne, I end my day with more reading in bed. I’ve learned to use magnetic book marks so I don’t lose my place when I doze off and the book drops from my hand.
One more tribute to Anne: When I taught in the primary grades, the afternoon began with the kids reading silently for 15 minutes. A delightful, peaceful start to the second half of the day.
I need STABILITY as the contractor’s program manager arrives today to begin repairing storm damage to my roof before repairing falling ceilings, etc. from the leaking.
Then tidy symmetry to calm my eyes & rest my soul. Emergency piles with plastic tossed over are NOT peaceful.
Followed by losing the stress of the last year’s constant medical surprises. Everything finally stabilizing there. Get your boob squishes, ladies. Blessed it’s benign, but you don’t know until the biopsy.
Then & only then can I introvert in peace & actually get to my books without being interrupted so often that I lose track of what I read & have to start over. Or look to see which book(s) I actually started & re-stack the pile so I get through them in series order.
Ah! I am trying to find that sweet spot. I belong to a women’s group where it is understood that laughing is just as important as learning. I belong to a group that supports people in the community who are unwell or need transportation and such. I faithfully attend “Good Dog” classes once a week with my 2 rescues. While I dream of an environment like Grace’s to go walking in, I haven’t figured out how to get there yet. Walking among the trees and near water is an exercise made in heaven.
Like Grace, I can spend inordinate amounts of my work while sitting down, planning conferences. However , this is interspersed with 20-30kms walking on one floor of the office running said conferences over a couple of days. The bounce back isn’t as quick anymore and the body’s ability to recharge is slower, but the huge volume of physical interactions, which I used to enjoy, is what depletes me most now. I need the quiet time, the book on the train to zone out of the morning journey, the same in the evening to push away the racing thoughts. The hour before everyone piles into the office.
I married a man and moved out of my life to make one with him. Absolutely worth it.
I love spending time with my extended family (parents, siblings, various nieces and nephews), but the peopling exhausts me. So planning downtime after is really important for recovery.
Boy, does this resonate with me. If course, I’m not sure if I was originally in full energizer bunny mode, but my charge was strong and lasted so much longer. After I lost my job and became a stay at home mom, I also became a super volunteer. President or chair of every dang thing. And remembered everything. Then I started dealing with thyroid issues, then the dreaded menopause. I go to the gym and hear women in the locker room talking about how they’re energized for the day. Me? I wanna go take a nap. But I’m there. Trying.
I never thought of it before, but you are right about the prescription for late life/retirement socializing; it is likely focused on men. But I can speculate on some reasons why. Women are taught by example from a young age to form connections. All the general talking we do, sharing stories, and talking about our feelings form connections. Part of that may even stem from our need for covert support in a male-dominated world.
We may not have a lot of friends. But the ones we’ve made stay in our hearts, even if we’ve moved away or moved on and lost contact. If a college roommate called me tomorrow for aid, I would be “I’ll help, what do you need?”
Men don’t always learn to make those connections. At retirement, they suddenly have nowhere to go and no one to do things with. A “work friend” is a friend by proximity. A genuine friend from work is someone you spend time with outside work: have over for dinner, a cookout, watch a movie or game, or whatever.
I read an article in the 1980s that said people (probably men lol) who retired at age 65 often passed away before they turned 70. In contrast, those who retired just a few years earlier (62) lived on into their 70s and beyond. The writers believed that the difference came from adjusting to retirement: taking up hobbies, making connections (lol) – finding a life and self-identity outside of work. Thus that prescription.
As women, even if we worked outside the home fulltime, most of us made connections. We had an identity outside of work. Being a mother, a sister, and a daughter formed connections with other women. We kind of “have” to volunteer: the PTA needs hands, and the church (they even let a person like ME teach Sunday School, lol!) or help with an event to raise funds for a cause, etc. We have done our part, we’ve been out there in the world, outside of a 40 hour workweek identity.
We can afford to withdraw into our quiet places because we already *have* those connections. When we poke our heads out, we have people to talk to. Our sister chat group text is as close as my phone.
p.s.: the exercise thing never worked for me either. turns out it doesn’t give happy endorphins if the brain chemistry is not there to support it. The right med can make all the difference.