This is writer/historian Barbara Fertig’s response to our March Challenge, in which we urge our readers to bring some change—however minimal—into their lives.

“Worst of all, I imagined that if I retired I would never find the time, or the energy, to create anew a comparable life of intellectual and social pleasures.”

.

Last month I decided to retire from teaching. I’m well past retirement age, but thought I would just let my time run out on its own, because I love what I do. [For the past 25 years, Fertig has been Professor of History at Armstrong State University in Savannah, Georgia.] I’ve changed my mind not because I’ve begun to love my work less, but because I love it so much.

I didn’t worry that much about becoming enfeebled or confused, although I’m sure my department head may have, but I did fear leaving behind the rich social and intellectual life that students and colleagues provided. Worst of all, I imagined that I would never find the time, or the energy, to create anew a comparable life of intellectual and social pleasures. Retirement seemed to be akin to driving off a cliff.

My decision was preceded by an attempt to clear my desk of pending tasks. I was preparing my portfolio for a review that occurs every five years. Passing this review would guarantee additional years in which to postpone my retirement until I could bring myself to think about it. Or just postpone it, period.

My desk was covered with binders, organizers, and documents. As I was assembling elements of the portfolio, I saw beneath them the syllabus for a class that met the next day. The sight reminded me that I owed each of these students an individual assignment, a task that I had yet to do. The portfolio was also due the next morning. Clearly, I did not have time to do both or, at the very least, to attend to each with appropriate care.

So, I wondered, should the portfolio buy me more years at the expense of the students now in my charge? If I love teaching, will I invest this day in the future that I want for myself, or in their futures, which really is the point of loving to teach?

It wasn’t really a decision, just a moment of clarity. I put aside the portfolio, walked down to the head office and declared my intent to retire. I spent the rest of the day finding some really great assignments for my class.

Upon reflection, I find the world full of possibilities. I have no idea what choices I may make. I only know that I have freed myself from clinging to what is.

Image by Todd Petrie via Flickr (Creative Commons License)