Fortunately, there were no iPhones or handheld video cameras in those days. Yes, we put on war paint and beat drums around spectacular bonfires in the woods. We chanted and sang and shouted. We revealed our innermost feelings or admitted to having lost touch with them. I certainly wouldn’t want any of that archived on YouTube.
But all the fads and gimmickry aside, there were a few moments during that weekend that I have often thought about and related to others. They were transformative, touching, and deeply personal.
We sat in a circle, about twelve of us ranging in age from late twenties to mid-seventies. Our facilitator asked each of us in turn to tell the others about ourselves: our names, what we did for a living, how old we were, and what it felt like to be that age.
It quickly became apparent how powerfully men identify with their jobs. I don’t recall anyone declaring himself to be a father, husband, brother or son. We were all accountants, brokers, engineers, contractors and in one case, retired.
It was the retired gentleman, about age seventy, who departed from the litany of information we’d all been rattling off when it was his turn. He took a deep breath, slowly looked around at everyone and said,
“I retired not long ago from a company where I worked my whole life. I gave everything I had to that place, traveled heavily, and worked long hours. I missed my children growing up, all of those special moments…” and at this point, he began to sob, “…and that company has no use for me anymore. I can never get those times back.”
Looking at us through his tears, he pleaded, “Don’t let this happen to you. At the end of the day it’s just a job, or series of jobs, and it shouldn’t be your top priority.”
Silence followed, and the facilitator was as blown away by this confessional outpouring as the rest of us. He had been handed a gift by this participant, the intended icebreaker having become a natural transition to deeper topics.
I’m sure not everyone was moved in the same way. It’s not easy to abandon deeply held beliefs. In many cases, doing whatever is necessary to support a family. Remember, in 1990 there were fewer two-income couples, and the aging workforce had its roots in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s. The times, they were a changing.
I was lucky to work for a company that has a vibrant retiree organization, with newsletters, activities, and regular meetings around the country. There is a definite sense of caring, that you still belong even after you’ve left the office.
Now, men and women are both challenged to remain engaged, productive, and valued but still a presence in the home, there for growing children and loving partners. And Covid has upset this already delicate dynamic.
There’s a wonderful quote from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, in which Marley’s ghost laments to Scrooge, “…no space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused!”
But we aren’t all shaken to our senses by a sobbing bundle of regret or a wandering disembodied spirit. If you don’t like where you’re heading, change something. Identify the one thing that means the most to you. Chasing two rabbits is a guarantee that you won’t catch either one.
😎
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