Out to grass

For those of us who have lived privileged, comfortable, conventional lives, retirement asks questions that most people have not had to answer before. We spent two decaces acquiring knowledge and skills, then four decades exchanging our time and creativity for income. Even if the work we did was unfulfilling, stressful or infuriating, it was necessary that we did it in order to have a roof, food and a liveable life. However much we dreaded Monday mornings, there was satisfaction in doing what needed to be done

Retirement, for the lucky ones like me and many of my friends, reverses all that. My income is now unrelated to what I do, and the only arbiter of how I spend my time is myself. To make wise choices then, I must know myself - more so than has ever previously been necessary. I'm not sure I've fully worked through that yet - I'm inclined to let events drive me, at least for a while, before making decisive choices about my life

I've observed what my contemporaries are doing and wondered to what extent they have carried out that analysis of what they really want - or to what extent they have filled their time with busy-ness so they do not have to. I apply the same question no less to myself

Somehow we managed to drive 400km without encountering the rain that has lashed much of the country - only threatening cloud and gloom. At the moment we arrived home, there was suddenly a burst of warm autum light, accentuating the colours, as if in welcone