You think you’ll have all the time in the world when you retire. People—family, friends, and casual acquaintances—ask, “What will you do with yourself? Will you take up a hobby? Travel?”
“No,” you say. You don’t think so. You’re going to do nothing. You are going to lay in the hammock talking on the phone and eating bon bons.
And for awhile you don’t take on anything new, but your days are full anyway. You learn about time and yourself as your activities expand to fit the time allotted. You slow down.
The garden becomes weed-free, the mulch pile gets deployed, and you add another weekly walking date to your calendar. But you never do get around to napping or day-reading, although you sometimes make calls from the hammock. No bon bons.
When the barn door opens, spilling out opportunities to ride, you have to make room. And then you join the gym. Now you are scurrying again, choosing time wisely, determined to hit all the high notes.
But you have the time because you are retired. Keep saying it and it will feel true. And you wish you could go back and answer the question put to you by so many when you first retired. “I’m getting back into horses,” you’d say, clear-eyed, and standing tall.