It has been common lately to hear the question, “How do you feel about your retirement coming up?” I never know quite how to respond to the question because the answer, like most human experiences, brings up such complex and multifaceted thoughts and feelings. The truth is I feel…
Amazed: How did I live long enough to retire? How did this actually happen? It seems surreal that cancer and my deformed heart have not ended my life before this occurred. Absolutely. Amazing.
Lost: Who am I if I am not a therapist? Being a therapist has given my life purpose and meaning. It has been my road map. And now I feel myself wandering a bit, not knowing what direction my life will take. Being in a place of acceptance about being lost both challenges me and inspires me.
Excited: What new adventure will I go on next? I see opportunities and the time to explore things, both close to me and far away. Time and energy that I have dedicated to others will now be focused on me. The sheer number of reels I have saved from Instagram about drawing, watercolor painting, and hiking is a testament to my excitement to explore and learn. I have plans to hike in Banff, Alberta Canada this spring and to bike the Hiawatha Trail in Idaho this fall. I have picked out a course at University of Michigan I plan to take this summer. I am excited to see how life shows up in this next chapter of my life.
Anxious: Have I done everything I can do to assist my clients make this transition to a new therapist? I feel like the details for all the referrals I needed to make keeps running around in my head. For some reason, I feel like I have to get every aspect of this transition right. And this anxiety keeps me struggling with wanting to manage and control how this all works, instead of trusting my clients will do what is right for them. And deep inside of me, I know they will.
Grief: How can I possibly let go of these people I have cared for? I will not know what future they create after we part. I will not celebrate their successes and normal everyday experiences. I will not hear about their new loves, new jobs, weddings, and graduations. I will not walk with them through their times of loss and sorrow. I will forever carry my clients inside of me, for loving someone doesn’t end when their physical presence is not here. But I will miss seeing their faces and hearing their voices and knowing their stories. And while each therapeutic relationship is unique, I will miss each and every one of them for the rest of my days.
Grateful: How did I get to have this amazing career for almost four decades? Being in this field has caused me to experience suffering, both others’ suffering and my own. But at its core, it is a legacy of meaningful relationships, both therapeutic and collegial. It has been the source of inspiration and devastation. And I would not give away a moment of it, even those times that were my darkest. My heart is filled with gratitude that I got to be a therapist.
So, this is where I am right now. I do not know how long I will stay in this place or how it may evolve for me. I just know I want to be open to the full experience of this transition and all the lessons and sweetness it has to offer.
Be well.
