On Retirement

What does it truly mean to be 'retired'.

When John Horgan told his cabinet that he was leaving politics, that he had taken a walk with his wife Ellie on the beach and as they talked about their future he realized that the ‘fire in his belly’ for fighting for the things worth fighting for was gone, it got me thinking about the ‘fire in my belly’. This was John’s second go round with cancer and it diminished that fire in his belly. He was done and we were all worse off for it.

I wept that day.

I wept because he was leaving and I wept because I knew that I would be leaving too. I had already (mostly) decided that this would be my last term in office. I was exhausted and felt like I was missing out on other parts of my life. I felt inspired, supported and valued by John’s style of leadership and given my level of exhaustion, I wasn’t sure that I had it in me for another four years, even with John leading the way. But with John leaving I became more certain that I was done. Now, I say ‘I had mostly decided to retire’ because even though I was exhausted, the idea of ‘retirement’ terrified me.

Some prefer to tell a tale that I was forced to retire by David Eby - but that is a lie. I had told David that I would not be running in the 2024 election in December 2022. He expressed surprise at my decision, noting that he wasn’t expecting my response. I told him that with a second cancer diagnosis earlier that year, with aging parents and adult children who I had hoped would have their own children soon, I wanted to be around for those who might need me and I, truthfully, wanted control over my calendar and my life, something you don’t have as a dutiful cabinet minister. I also wasn’t a fan of David’s leadership style, but I chose not to share that bit with him.

That he fired me from cabinet five weeks later and I quit the caucus four weeks after that is a tale for another day (or - shameless plug - you could read all about it in my book Truth Be Told ).

Here I am, 18 months after retiring and having the emotional space and freedom to reflect back on these 18 months and to figure out what retirement should look like for me.

The transition into owning my calendar and my time wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Besides not knowing how to actually put meetings and events into my phone calendar on my own (I’ve had staff do that for me for over a decade), I had to figure out how to spend at least 15 hours in the day and to create a brand new routine.

I also had to find a new speed - to slow down.

I no longer had to jump out of bed, make coffee, shower, grab a bite with that coffee, take my chemotherapy pills (yes, I am still on a daily chemotherapy that keeps cancer from coming back - another tale for another day) and charge out the door to either make my way to the Legislature, my community office in Coquitlam or to some other event or meeting. I no longer had to check my phone at night before going to bed to look at the following days’ schedule so that I could sort out what outfit was needed and which shoes I would need to wear. Knowing whether I was at a ground breaking on a rainy November morning and then going to a Vancouver Board of Trade Luncheon had significant impact on what I needed to wear and how I was going to make the outfit transition from mud to meeting.

Speaking of outfits ….

I have fabulous closets full of amazing suits that I have collected over more than a decade and there they continue to hang, in my closets, yes closets with an ‘S’. Upon retirement, I learned that I had little by way of casual wear, clothes that one wears without heels or a suit jacket. But in these early days of retirement, I resisted a shopping spree, not sure of exactly what kinds of clothing would meet my retirement needs.

So now I don’t check my calendar the night before because I know I don’t likely have anything to do before 10 am. I decided that I will rarely make a commitment that requires me to move through the morning at break neck speed. As a post-menopausal woman I am often awake well before 7 (although this morning I ‘slept in’ until 8!) but I take my mornings slow. I have a second cup of coffee because I can. I read 2-3 newspapers because I no longer get it synthesized for me by others and because I have the time to actually read them myself. Taking my mornings more slowly gives me appreciation for the day ahead and to figure out how I want to spend my time - whether it’s going for a walk (which I do pretty much every day), reading a book or practicing tying flies onto fishing line.

Having this time is a gift that comes with retirement, but there is little guidance on what to do with my energy, my passion for social justice (aka tikkun olam, the Jewish concept to heal the world), my belief that we should all be engaged in making the world a better place - what do I do with that?

In many ways this has been the bigger struggle than how to spend time. I’ve been learning new skills, engaged in travel and spending more time doing things I love to do, but I have learned that I needed to ask myself a different question.

How do I want to spend my time in a meaningful way?

I decided to retire when I did because I want to do the things I want to do, and I am doing many of them and I truly wanted to be available to my family as their needs changed and I am doing that too and it’s incredibly meaningful, but it’s still not enough.

The meaning in retired life is wide open and I had thought that a little volunteering here and there might do the trick, but it’s not ‘fire in the belly’ stuff. Don’t get me wrong, it’s meaningful and it makes a difference in people’s lives, but it’s the ‘fire in the belly’ stuff that keeps the churn going and in many ways keeps retirement ‘peace’ elusive for me. I see how our social fabric is being eroded by not so ‘peaceful’ protesters each week. I see how ineffective our governments are (municipal, provincial and federal) at addressing the meteoric rise in Jew hatred, whether in the traditional form of antisemitism, coming from extremists on the right, or the modern Jew hatred of antizionism coming from extremists on the left - both have the same impact on Jews and our broader communities. I see how decisions made by our current provincial government are saddling our children and grandchildren with incredible debt that will make the likelihood of much needed investments in accessible, affordable childcare, education and healthcare unlikely or near impossible in the near future. I see how discourse in the legislature is being abased to new lows that make watching the interaction unpalatable and discouraging. I see how the ‘have you seen the demographics of my riding’ is influencing those who are tasked to represent ALL of us. I see an erosion of values, principles and moral clarity in our political discourse along with the disappearance of curiosity and understanding. I see too much self righteousness and not enough humility among our leaders. I see the naivete (willful or not) of our leaders who refuse to acknowledge the nefarious foreign characters who are influencing our democracy and making us more polarized.

These are the things that disturb me these days during retirement.

Sounds like there is still ‘fire in my belly’ after all.

Sigh.