Archives for February 2022

It used to be we were only afraid of Covid. Now, what we fear most is that we have lost these precious retirement years all together. Boomers who were already retired when the pandemic began or those that retired as a direct result of the pandemic, were equally affected. Longtime plans for travel and family activities were put on hold. Initially, it was just one year. Then the one year extended to a second year. And now? No one really knows what the risks are, even if one is vaccinated. Chances of dying are lower? Great! What a relief! Wait a second! That’s the best-case scenario? There’s a fairly good chance we won’t die? Gee, thanks.

Almost everyone is vaccinated (let’s not even talk about why it’s not 100%) and yet we still have trepidation about eating indoors or flying somewhere on an airplane. What have we really lost? Time. Just time. But, it’s time that could have been spent with friends and family. Time to visit new places and try new hobbies and activities. Time for an in-person book club. Time to meet new people. Time to find a new love in your life.

The next thing to fear, thanks very much pandemic, is that we will make ourselves sick or crazy trying to make up for lost time. In our zeal to get back that lost time, we try to redouble our efforts to do everything and go everywhere. Perfect. Then we get sick because we’re so tired from trying to do too much.

It does appear at this moment in time that baby boomers are planning to break the metaphoric shackles that have been trapping us in our homes and hit the road. Fearful or not, we are ready to escape into the wide world. Be warned. Boomers are loose and they mean to have a good time, so woe to anyone who stands in their way.

But we will be as polite about it as we can, you can be sure.

Jay Harrison is a writer and creative consultant for DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle. You can also visit his author page here.

I am a boomer at heart although technically a member of the Silent Generation. I left the corporate world in 2010 but still engage in work-like activities to feel relevant and needed.

My network expanded since transitioning to my current life-stage. In 2017 I started a local group of senior adults with Judy, my wife. We migrated to Zoom when COVID derailed our lives. I also participate in many online discussion groups with peers across the globe.

I noticed a trend over the years. A portion of the ‘retired’ senior adult population complains about being lost. Both women and men have these feelings. The latter are less apt to confess for fear of seeming weak.

Being lost and lacking direction in our lives is difficult to admit for all of us. These feelings reveal themselves only when honestly examined. The root cause usually stems from a lack of purpose and meaning.

The lives of those caught in the maze were previously defined in terms of work and accomplishments. When work stops sadness and anger replace dignity and self respect. The motivation “to get up and make the donuts” in the morning escapes.

Many are lonely. Some never married, others lost their partners or have no nearby family or close friends. A child cared for an ill parent for years. COVID isolation magnified this loneliness.

Instead of being motivated, they listen to a negative inner voice in their head. It slyly draws them back to bed long after they should arise. Later the voice convinces them that it is better to eat, drink, watch TV, read the paper, work a crossword puzzle, etc. than to take a walk.

Then the same voice scolds them for being bad!

Chores are avoided; tasks become burdensome. Change is frightening and couples with anxiety. Mild, even severe depression may follow.

This hamster wheel existence repeats daily, as if starring in one’s own personal Groundhog Day movie. Perhaps they somehow have a reality check, perhaps not.

I have had similar feelings at times. Some were due to severe illnesses, others to low self esteem or sheer boredom.

Fortunately I never spiraled down into depression. Support systems and resiliency helped me bounce back and fight through setbacks.

Self reflection is one of the exercises I used to counteract these feelings of uneasiness. The steps are simple, the execution difficult.

List past activities that elevated you to get high on life, operate in a groove, attain flow. A place where you were lost in space and time.

Then ask yourself WHY? Repeat until you understand what truly brings you happiness or contentment.

Then devise an action plan. Pattern your remaining life’s journey around the sources of inner joy you exposed.

It worked for me through trial and error. I hope it works for you.

Michael Yublosky has been called a Renaissance Man by many but really considers himself to be an observer of life, an outlier and Don Quijote rolled into one. He is still active in the business world and can be found on LinkedIn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here in the City of Four Seasons, as my Western North Carolina town is known, we’re having a cold winter. My partner, a Southern man, feels it more than I do. He stands at the window, shakes his head at the falling snow and the swirling wind, and reports on the outside temperature every hour. My Yankee blood can take it. I want to go outside in the midst of a storm, throw snowballs and make snow angels. I tell him stories of the harsh northern winters of my youth, and the skiing, both downhill and cross country, as well as the sledding, skating, and snow shoeing I enjoyed in the frigid winter air.

I try to be patient as my partner complains. After all, studies show that older adults tend to have slightly lower body temperatures than younger adults, and over time our bodies are less able to regulate temperature. Our blood circulation—especially in our hands and feet—can also decrease as your blood vessels lose elasticity. And he experiences Raynaud Syndrome in the winter, especially in his hands.

Despite my stories and my appreciation of winter, it’s been a long time since I engaged in the winter sports of my youth. There’s no good skiing nearby, and I lack a close hill and a sled. No snowshoes or skates either. I love snow, though, and the beauty and quiet it brings to the world, especially now that I don’t have to commute to work in the winter. So I’ll be the one to pull on my good winter boots and heavy coat, wrap a scarf around my neck and don my hat and gloves and go outside in it. I’ll walk to the mailbox or the store on the snowiest days, sticking my tongue out to catch the flakes as I did as a child. But these days, I tread more carefully over icy roads, down the steps from our front door, and on the sidewalks due to the risk of falling. It’s the leading cause of injury in adults 65 and older, I hear.

I also heard the other day, though, about someone’s mother, in her 80’s, who joyously took a sled to a hill and rode down in the midst of our latest snowstorm, while her son, in his 60’s, shivered inside. I decided from now on, she will be my role model. Sledding anyone?

Lee Stevens is writing and reconnecting in Hendersonville, NC.