Liberation

 

Hand logo for freedom

Last week I handed over two large boxes of files, a laptop, scanner and other associated bits and pieces. My period as the Parish Clerk had finally ended. As I wrote in my last post, I have enjoyed undertaking the role but, after more than 7 years, am ready for a change.

When I initially retired, I had a strange idea that I would wake up the next morning a changed being ready to embark on a new (to me) unconventional lifestyle. I wanted to shake off the decades of logic and pedantry; that world where you see both sides of every argument but are ready to present only one. A place where right and wrong can be very black and white and the need for focus reigns supreme.

Of course, it didn't happen. In fact nothing altered for months or even years. I remained the product of straight line thinking and convoluted legislation. The inner Bohemian, if it existed, was buried deep. Try as I might, it simply wasn't easy to embrace new pathways and methodology.

I followed advice on not committing to anything new for at least 12 months after retiring. I envisaged, however, a future where I might transform into a kindly spirit, helping out and caring; perhaps fostering an artistic temperament with creativity dominating my days.

Instead, I became Parish Clerk tasked with keeping the statutory records for the civil parish as well as advising and guiding Parish Councillors on the relevant laws and regulations. The hours were flexible and the position very much part-time. For a long time it suited where I was at in my transition. It helped me ease into the change, even. Gradually, however, the match has begun to deteriorate. I no longer dovetail into the classic legal image.

Back in 2014, in my pre-retirement days, Sundays were always a nightmare. Frequently a briefcase stuffed with papers sat staring accusingly at me from the hallway waiting to be opened in order to prepare for the Monday morning onslaught; the evening was an invariable dress-rehearsal for the week ahead; sleep was interrupted by a nagging thought that often necessitated a scribbled note at 3am., just in case.

I would be lying if I said retiring anew this time from a casual role has brought the same relief as I found 8 years ago. It has, nonetheless, been liberating. Mondays had become the day when I undertook most of my obligations and today I reclaimed it for my own distractions and personal administration.

I admire those within our communities who can give their time and effort selflessly, week after week, year after year. I continue as Trustee of a local charitable organisation but otherwise plan to indulge myself with oodles of "me-time" whilst I figure out the next phase of retirement fulfilment. As we evolve, our means for satisfaction alter. I know that knitting for one very small granddaughter isn't going to replenish the gap, but, together with lots of cuddles, it is enough for the moment.

(Image by John Hain from Pixabay)

 

Comments

Treaders said…
Good for you. Let someone else take up the mantle! Before I retired I was broached about taking on a staff counsellor role (for admin matters, not counselling) on a 50% basis, unpaid! I thought about it VERY briefly but realized that I did NOT want to undertake the commute from hell any more - heck it was the reason I quit in the first place. I was then asked to sit on the retirees' executive committe (which I do) but I'm really not interested there either. I always seem to have so much going on anyway, although like you I'm still searching for my inner Bohemian! Little bugger must be hiding!
Caree Risover said…
Haha! Beginning to wonder if I’ve killed mine off altogether, but, ever the optimist, hope lingers on!
Christie Hawkes said…
Congratulations Caree! Enjoy this next phase of retirement and that new baby.
Caree Risover said…
Thank you, Christie

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