Retirement blog: It’s utterly bonkers

I’ve been accused, most often by Mrs Summerhouse, of having some crazy ideas. These ‘ideas’ usually involved us in stepping way outside our comfort zones and going to live and work in some foreign country. First the USA, second, New Zealand and last at least so far, Australia. I’ve frequently written about something called the missing link and to this point geographically, that missing link has been Canada. True we’ve seen little bits of it on holiday but we’ve never lived and worked there.

Then a strange thing happened. I don’t really use Linkedin having always regarded it as essentially a work-related bit of social media. And of course I don’t work anymore. Occasionally a message will pop up that is intriguing enough for me to follow the links. Such as happened a couple of weeks ago.

The link in question was about working as a psychologist in Nova Scotia. I say that Canada had always remained outside of my achievements country-wise and that’s true. But Nova Scotia has an even greater cache. It’s a place I’ve always wanted to visit but haven’t. It occupies the same sort of idealistic location in my dreams as Alaska (and it’s closer). It’s something about cold, unpopulated places that appeal. Don’t ask me why because I do not know, but there it is.

So, completely unbidden, up pops the advert for psychologist’s jobs in Nova Scotia. So far so sane but what followed was completely amazing. In short I began to consider the possibilities of applying for one of these jobs. It gradually began to dawn on me how crazy an idea this was. That was the obvious bit but what really shook me is that, after six and a half years of retirement, I still had some kind of hankering to be working, to have a career, to be unretired. To have one last fling working abroad-wise.

I pretended I was just fooling about and clicked on the link to the advert. I was hoping that there would be something in the advert that would rule me out, like people over the age of 65 need not apply. Fair enough too although in this day and age that would probably not be allowed. Equal Opportunities and all that. And sure enough there was nothing obvious that would make any application from me unrealistic.

However, and you’ll have to concentrate or just take my word for it, if you’re not a psychologist, there were three aspects of the job mentioned in the advert that should rule it out. First there was the emphasis on multi-agency working. Now I know this is not fashionable but what the heck. I have never liked multi-agency working. My view was that a problem shared (with another agency) was a problem doubled. So no to that.

Second, an emphasis on ‘assessment’. Again you’ll think I’m weird, but for me this is one of those weasel words, code for ‘testing’. Maybe IQ, maybe not but again another no, no, for me. Finally, ‘diagnosis’. This, in my mind, again is code for labelling. No room here to go into why I’m against labelling and given I’m 6 and a half years retired, who cares? Anyway the point is there was plenty in the advert to put me off.

Let alone all the practicalities of moving away for at least a year. The vineyard, my music, the dogs (who I’d already decided would come with us, quarantine or not). Then the challenges of leaving three properties behind and much more. No, there is no way we could move to Nova Scotia even if they were silly enough to offer me a job, which of course they wouldn’t.

But all this is rather beside the point. And that is, why would I even be interested in a job, here or there or anywhere when I’ve been retired for 6 and a half years and I  thought I’d put behind me any unease with being retired. I thought I’d left the idea of working way behind me. Certainly I keep telling myself I have.

True it didn’t help when my daughter and her husband came round a couple of nights ago for a meal. In the way one does of making light conversation I said guess what I nearly did the other day. You’ll be surprised. So I told them about the job in Nova Scotia safe in the knowledge that they would respond with a ‘are you bloody mad?’ You’re retired you’re supposed to be taking it easy. Words frequently used by our daughter as applied to our current retirement lives.

And what did they say? Well, would you believe, they said, great, go for it. Bloody kids, you just can’t rely on them to do the right thing even at their age. I tell you it set me back a bit. By the time I’d spoken to them I’d just about convinced myself that it was a very silly idea. Kick back and enjoy your retirement I was saying and then they come along with their ‘go for it’ philosophy and the whole thing was up in the air again.

It’s now a few days since we spoke to them and the craziness has died down. Inertia is a wonderful thing and I know that, if I do nothing for a bit longer, the opportunity (interesting word) will go away. I’ve forgotten what the closing date was for the job/s but it’s sure to be soon. So the crisis of indecision or even worse, hankering, will disappear.

But again that’s not really the point is it? Why would I even seriously contemplate at the age of 71 moving half way round the world to a cold climate to start a job that doesn’t even sound like it’s my kind of job? It does not make any kind of sense at all. It can only be explained by me rethinking where I’m really at with my retirement. Bloody hell, this working business bites deep and it’s direct opposite, retirement, comes across, at times like this, as a very flimsy business indeed. Or maybe that’s just me.