How to Forget About Retirement And Pursue ‘Refinement’

By John F. Wasik

I was talking to an 81-year-old friend “Jim” the other day about what he envisioned for himself next year.

“I’m winding down my business,” he told me with a sigh.

He clearly enjoyed the consulting work he was doing, which came on the heels of a career with an accounting firm and television station. “But I’m beginning to feel it,” he noted, referring to his age and body.

That prompted me to pitch my newish view on retirement, which I tossed out like a celebrity guest at opening day at Wrigley Field.

“Well, I’ve been redefining retirement,” I told Jim. “I don’t use the word when referring to myself. I think of refinement. What do I want to do better if I didn’t have to worry about about bills and raising children?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve come to realize there are many kinds of work. There is pure labor – something you need to do to survive and maintain a lifestyle. Yet there are other kinds of work that aren’t weighed as equally as your livelihood.”

“Do you mean hobbies?”

“For some, they have a definite vocation. Maybe they are called to be doctors, lawyers, first responders, clergy or accountants. Then there are those seeking an avocation, something you do that you don’t need to get paid for that makes you feel alive.”

What makes you feel alive? This is where you need to make some personal definitions. For one gentleman that I met in a parking garage yesterday, it was a screaming red Dodge Challenger with 350 horses under the hood.

“That was my mid-life crisis,” he smiled, as I remarked on his muscle car. In my search for refinement, I love to observe and ask others what gives them joy.

That reminds me of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., a fellow Midwesterner who wrote about difficult subjects with a puckish wit and cigarette hanging from his mouth. I recently discovered that in his final years, after a groundbreaking writing career, he had written for a Chicago-based socialist magazine In These Times.

Vonnegut, whose observations were usually dark and comic, mused wisely on refinement:

“Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake.”

That observation brought me back to my definitions of work and how they integrated with the overall objective of refinement.

There is a need for soul work, which may be caregiving or community work. I felt a deep sense of humility and purpose when I had to manage my father’s care as he descended into the abyss of Alzheimer’s Disease. At first, I resented it and blamed him for any number of shortcomings. Then it occurred to me: This is not about you. Only one thing is asked of you now. Do it with compassion, dignity and patience.

So I needed to do some big-time attitude refinement as I guided my Dad through hospice care and his final moments. I don’t have any regrets. He was a musician and teacher, which called to me to practice my art. I have had more experience as a performing musician than any other thing I have done other than writing. I have work to do, but it will be about sharing and not compensation.

Of course, when somebody close to you is terminally ill or dies, it triggers a life review before the ultimate quiz. As my friend Marcus (Aurelius) said:

“We ought to spend the rest of life according to nature, as if we were already dead, and had come to the end of our term.”

For me, I’d be happy refining my music and learning to draw and write better while serving my community. A good part of the art of living is realizing what you need to do that wakes you up in the middle of the night then gets you up again in the morning.

If you find work you love – in its myriad forms – find gulps of joy in it, but don’t “measure out your life in coffee spoons,” as T.S. Eliot warns.

Refine your art of living; a challenge that will fill you up no matter how old you are. Don’t leave an empty cup.

This essay was not produced by AI. I am a sentient writer, journalist, author, speaker, musician and elected public official who’s written 19 books and contributed to The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Forbes, Bloomberg and Reuters. All experiences, opinions, insights, joys and grief are my own.