Lunch

“Now that you’re retired, what are your plans?” or “Are you and your husband traveling this fall?” Post retirement these two questions are most frequently posed by those I know. They are asked in good faith by people who are genuinely interested. However, I will tell you that the questions are somewhat far-fetched based on the life I’ve led for thirty two years as a public school teacher. I started this work at twenty two years old and I know nothing else. It’s going to take a minute to “unlearn” some of the habits of this teaching life. I need this liminal period to exhale, decompress, and remember that the world truly is filled with possibility. Starting small, I’m going to begin this journey by deconstructing my teacher paradigm for lunch.

I have spent thirty two years following the same routine–down to the exact minute with four minute breaks to use the restroom and refill my water bottle. I’ve had a twenty-two minute lunch period during which I had, in recent years, given up even leaving my classroom because I didn’t want to waste the time it would take to walk to the lounge on the other side of our school building. I packed a yogurt and cheese with crackers because they were easy, no need for the extra time a microwave meal or reheat would require. Travel plans? I didn’t even venture out of my classroom for the past four years. The sort of meandering involved in sightseeing would require an attitude shift that is going to take some time. I have been trained and conditioned for productivity and maximum efficiency. As I move out of the regimented and, at times, harsh routine of being a public servant, I will need to take it slowly–baby steps.

So I willl start with lunch. I can think of no better way to start moving forward as I reimagine my life than over a delicous meal. Each week of my retirement I have started to enjoy leisurely lunches. Several times now I’ve met my fellow retired teachers for a midday meal, during which we ordered elaborate dishes that took several minutes to prepare. Additionally, each of us took extensive time to cut our food and fully chew before swallowing. We never checked our phones for the time nor did any of us grow increasingly anxious as the time slipped away. It was a lunchtime feeling previously reserved only for weekends. And it was a Tuesday or maybe it was Wednesday. The day of the week or the exact time is no longer a matter of utmost importance.

What is now of utmost importance? Maybe it’s me. As everything slows way down and the doors open to new possibilties, I start to consider, for the first time in a long time, what I want to do next. Maybe having started the much needed physical rest of retirement and having enjoyed the sustanance of a proper lunch, I can continue to move my way up Maslow’s Hierarchy to one day reach self actualization–to discover the best version of me…for me!