Yme Woensdregt
One of the common questions we tend to ask each other is “What do you do?” and “Where do you hope to be in 2 or 3 years?” We are told that it’s important to set goals. Several cliches reinforce this— “You can’t hit a target you haven’t set up” or “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.”
Shelves abound with self–help books. We can attend any number of seminars geared around questions such as, “Where will your life be in 3–5 years? Where are you going in your life? Planning for success in everything you do.”
It’s true that there is some value to setting goals for yourself. But I am discovering that it’s not really as critical as some people think it is. Two years ago, who could have planned for this pandemic? Who can plan for a disease which comes upon us suddenly? Or the death of someone we love? Or for an unplanned pregnancy? Or for countless other joys and sorrows in life?
When I retired a couple of years ago, people started to ask me what was next in my life.
What will you do now? (I don’t know.)
What are your plans? (I don’t have any yet.)
Will you go travelling? (I thought I might do a little, but then … well, you know.)
Since you have all this extra time now, could you sit on this board? Could you volunteer for this? Could you get involved with my pet project? (I’m sorry, I promised myself I’d say “No” to every request in the first year of my retirement.)
Here I am, two years later, thoroughly enjoying my retirement. I still haven’t made any long–range plans. I revel in having an unscheduled life, with very few appointments. I relish the time given to me to be able to read or engage in hobbies, both old and new. I thoroughly enjoy the freedom to sleep late in the morning. I delight in being able to connect with friends by phone or Zoom or Facetime.
Generally, I have learned to respond to those kinds of questions in two ways. The first is to say, “I’m grateful to be alive.” Gratitude has become one of the keystones of my life. I have learned to focus on all the goodness in my life, to be grateful for what I have and what I’m able to do and for all the people whom I’ve chosen to be in my life. It’s not just about the goal. It’s about how I live in the moment.
That doesn’t mean life is a bowl of cherries. As I age, there are more aches and pains. There are some disappointments and hardships. There are some things I’m no longer able to do, or able to do quite as quickly and effortlessly as before.
But overall, life is a joy, and I am enjoying the journey rather than worrying about the goal. I am learning that for me, it is more important to “be” than to “do”.
Which leads me to my second response to that question: “I am leading a nonproductive and fruitful life.”
Nonproductive, which is to say I no longer worry about producing or making or creating anything (except for these weekly columns). My life has ceased being about what I do. I have released the need to meet the expectations of others. I have been released from deadlines, for the most part (except for these weekly columns). I no longer worry about producing anything unless I choose to get involved with a project.
Paradoxically, being able to focus on being nonproductive allows me to lead a more fruitful life. I have spent countless hours helping other people, talking with them about issues which affect them. I have met with young people struggling with anxieties about the future. I have met with older people, helping them think through options in their lives. I have spent time with people who have experienced a significant loss in their lives.
I have become involved in a few projects in which I had the time to advocate for those who are less fortunate. I have worked with groups online, advocating for mental health and writing about medical assistance in dying.
One of the definitions of “fruitfulness” in the dictionary has to do with producing good results. But I want to focus more on the other definitions about being beneficial or bearing an abundant harvest.
I am no longer interested in answering the question, “What do you do?” I am much more interested in focusing on “What kind of person do you want to be?” They are not mutually exclusive, but too often in this world, we focus on the first and mostly ignore the second. I now have the time and the energy to reflect more faithfully about the kind of person I want to be.
My life is nonproductive and fruitful.
In the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking about this in the context of Jesus’ teaching that “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25).
Jesus was speaking in the context of what it meant to be a follower, to be a disciple. But I have also found it to be meaningful in terms of how we live our lives. If we spend much of our time thinking about what we can do, we may lose the fullness of life. We may find life slipping out of our hands.
But when we pay attention to the kind of person we can be, we may discover a fullness which we might otherwise have missed. As for me, I have discovered my life opening up in ways I never imagined, and I am grateful.
Yme Woensdregt is a retired Anglican priest living in Cranbrook