Working 2

When I first announced last year that I planned to retire from my day job, the reactions could be separated typically into two categories:

1) The “I’m so excited for you—you’ll love it!” group’s response was grounded in belief that life has an abundance of wonderful opportunities to offer. Yes, there would be less money coming in, but the release from a stressful job and the ability to do work or volunteer my time in endeavors I find personally meaningful would tip the scales to a positive side.

2) The “Are you sure? Aren’t you worried about money? You don’t seem like the type of person who can sit around and do nothing all day” group’s attitude came from a scarcity belief about life. Would there be enough of whatever to keep me happy? If I gave up my professional career to take on new challenges that had absolutely no guaranty of success, well….was I crazy? What if it didn’t work out?

The scarcity group’s generalized attitude reminded me of a quote I heard years ago. I thought it was by Wayne Dyer, but I searched online without finding either the quote or attribution. So whoever said it first, I appreciate your letting me borrow it here. It’s deep, so get ready.

“If who you are is what you do, then when you don’t, you aren’t.”

Do me a favor and read that again.

It’s like an algebraic formula:

If WhoYouAre = WhatYouDo, then WhenYouDon’t = YouAren’t.

I know too many people who think their self-worth is based on their career (what they “do”). So they fear that relinquishing the career will rob them of their identity.

Life is so much more than a job or career! I once told a friend, “This job is not my life. This job provides the means to live my real life.”

In our local newspaper, the obituaries (No, I do not have the habit of reading them, in case you’re wondering) list the person’s name, and then under the name, their former profession. That’s just wrong. I have warned my grown daughter that should “Credit Manager” appear anywhere in my obituary, I will come back to haunt her.

She understands and agrees that my obituary will read, “Norma Thatcher, Child of God.” Because really, that’s who I am above all else.

To my readers:  Please share one of the “titles” that defines the real you.