Signpost ages in our lives
Turning sixty-five has been a kick in the teeth in a way I never would have expected.
There seem to be these signpost ages in our lives: for women, I’ve heard that it’s thirty (remember, too, the ‘60s mantra of “Don’t trust anyone over thirty”?) while, for men, it’s age forty, when you basically realize that at least half of your life is over and you wonder whether you’ve accomplished enough – whatever that means.
Forty was an age when I split up with my previous wife and later met my current (and final) wife, so it was a kind of momentous year for me regardless. I was too busy dangling from an emotional yo-yo to worry about whether I’d accomplished enough. Then, I looked at my bank account and found out very quickly all I needed to know in terms of that “accomplishment” thing – seemed like I was starting over in more ways than one.
Turning sixty was another signpost age – for me, anyway. I joked with people, “It’s the last quarter now, and I can only hope that the game goes into overtime.” Took early Canada Pension, which is one of those things you can do only if you’re sixty or older. Proof positive that I was well on my way within my seventh decade.
Moved to New Brunswick the year I turned sixty, too, so a new chapter was beginning on a couple of different fronts. But turning sixty-five has been something different entirely.
“Freedom 55”?
Fifty-five was always the mythical Holy Grail in terms of early retirement. One of the insurance companies used that as a very successful marketing slogan many years ago and the concept as a whole (as well as the actual slogan) caught on with boomers very quickly and very deeply. That was a non-starter financially for me a long time prior to turning that age and I’m not sure I would have stopped working then even if I could have.
I was just coming into my own in terms of having my own business (I’d been self-employed for a long time in a couple of different careers, but I now owned my real estate appraisal business outright). On the volunteer side, I was just getting rolling into coaching junior high boys basketball and was mid-stream in my volunteer gig with the University of Alberta Senate, both of which I enjoyed immensely.
I’d also received a bit of an inheritance at that time (I’ll spare you the details here, but you can glean some of them from this piece), so there was even a bit more financial security than there had been to that point. It was a heady time – the start of some of the best years of my life, in fact.
But time marches on.
The idea of retirement at sixty-five
Sixty-five is considered retirement age in Canada, although you can draw a reduced amount of Canada Pension (CPP) as early as age sixty, with your “full” entitlement available at age sixty-five, if you wait that long. You have to wait until age sixty-five to draw on Old Age Security (OAS), though.
The age of sixty-five was often the one I discussed with people (who would likely not have enough money to retire at fifty-five) when I was a financial planner. I enjoyed helping people work toward their retirement goals but, for me, that age was just a far-away concept, mostly theoretical, really, since I was only in my thirties when I was doing that kind of work.
You don’t really understand ages at the different stages of your life until you’ve lived them.
My own experience so far
To me, sixty-five has been its own particular thing. You get that first OAS cheque – a pittance, if there ever was one, especially if you have tax withheld at the source, but it made this new stage of life very real for me. I think it might be different for people who have had a single career and flourished within that but, in my case, I did several different things, none of which have ever really defined me (all my fulfilment came from the volunteer gigs I described above).
So, in doing this bit of scribbling, I see it as my last chance to produce something fulfilling and lasting, and something that really matters to me. This is mostly great, although it can be a bit of a double-edged sword.
Mortality
You see, mortality in general focusses the mind, and it does it for most of us throughout our lives, whether we realize it or not. We would act very differently if we knew we weren’t going to die, I’m sure. But, if post-sixty-five is the chosen time to shine, the focus has to be laser-sharp. There’s no more room for error or second chances and it certainly feels like there’s no time to waste.
I was really gob-smacked when an acquaintance of ours in Alberta passed away a while back at age sixty-six. She was healthy and vibrant – my wife and I would never have expected that and we never did find out what the cause may have been. The Camrose (AB) Morning News obits (which we still read precisely for the obituaries – at a certain age, that’s just what you do, particularly relative to a place where you spent many decades) are rife with people who have died in their sixties.
I wish I could know what the cause was for each of them so I can stop asking myself, “Will it be the same for me?” I know, I know… focus on the now and let the chips fall where they may. That is indeed the best advice, but it’s sometimes easier to say than to do.
Existential dread
Will I finish the things I truly want to finish? Will I get to see may daughter (who lives in Ireland) often enough? Will we have enough money? Can I just stop having so much other crap to do that drags me away from what I truly want to be doing?
Sometimes, I don’t even realize how much those thoughts underpin my thinking, but I’ve certainly come to see it in the resentment and impatience I direct toward all the inevitable, normal little impediments in daily life that keep diverting my focus. As I said, it’s a double-edged sword: it’s a joy to have discerned purpose at this stage in my life, especially since many retirees do not, but purpose can sometimes be a relentless taskmaster.
I am going to have to think very carefully how to discover the balance that’ll allow me to accomplish what I still want to accomplish while enjoying the ride along the way.
Had I done some things differently over time, I might find myself in a very different existential milieu. So many things in my life – such as all the relationships that truly matter to me – are exactly where I’d want them to be but some of those other things sound a lot like chickens coming home to roost.
I’m hoping that I can at least have a few more years to tend to those chickens but, in the meantime, I’d better get to work. After all, I’m sixty-five now.
A thoughtful recollection. I was the advertising copywriter who coined Get Rich Slowly. My best friend, also a financial planner, gave me three copies of the Wealthy Barber – which I ignored.
Today’s idea is about life and financial training for young men. I just watched Prof. Scott Galloway on Morning Joe. ( 4.23.23) He makes several salient points, many of which are applicable to Canada in its current state. Reading your bio, someone like you is well-equipped to be part of the solution. I found Galloway’s comment that the education system seems to have swapped computer programming for civics especially resonant. More later. Regards – from a reader 8 years your senior.
I do so appreciate your kind thoughts and any perspective you have to offer. Yes, civics a disappeared option, it seems – less and less that binds us in the absence of that. We will be chatting much more, I suspect. Thank you again.