If I asked myself the question, how am I coping? A year ago that would clearly have applied to my retirement life. Today the enquiry would seem to relate almost entirely to the pandemic. OK, so how am I doing with the restrictions that this pandemic brings?
Firstly I would say that having reduced options can be good thing. For example I’m more content with what we have and less inclined to be looking for that legendary ‘missing link’. A couple of my values are helping me out here. As I said before that’s what values should do. They’re something to lean on in good times and bad.
So, in this case, I’m talking about the balance between routine and change, the predictable with the unpredictable. And let me remind you that balance does not mean it’s got to be exactly 50 / 50 all the time. Depending on specific circumstances the fulcrum can be at a different point with varying ‘weights’ on either end. As it is here –more routine than change.
Right now I’m doing pretty well in my retirement life because I’m very much valuing my daily routines. They look something like this – 6.30, cup of tea and digestive biscuits shared with the dogs in bed. Time then for their first walk of about an hour (less at the moment with all the snow and ice on the ground). Breakfast which varies a bit. It can be light or less light depending whether it’s one of two ‘fasting days’.
Then either of my new learning activity, currently The History of the Celts or my new musical activity. Either way there’s a strong element of learning at this point in the day. The music is worth a bit of explanation. With the help of my new studio monitors (a Christmas present) and Mrs Summerhouse’s iPad and iReel Pro software I’m playing my guitar to jazz tunes backing. The set-up is in our living room so no great drama going up to the attic to have access to the full set of options, including my key board.
About the same time Mrs Summerhouse will be engaged in art of various kinds or yoga, actual or electronic, or this last week, marmalade making. Apart from the marmalade the point, in terms of this retirement blog, is these activities are routines for her.
Then a cup of tea and lunchtime and by that time, it’s the second walk. Another approximately one hour of outdoor exercise (that balance thing again). There’s usually about an hour’s gap when we get back and before our main meal of the day. I might write a bit more of a blog, as I am doing now, or a spot of reading. But at this time of day if there is reading then it’s likely to be non-fiction for reasons I’ve explained in past blogs.
We eat early. This started because we cut out lunch altogether when I was trying to lose weight, this to help my diabetes. So only two meals a day although admittedly the lunchtime cup of tea will probably be accompanied by a biscuit or two. So we eat dinner about 4 o’clock. Some people might dispute that this merits the term dinner. You could call it tea if you were so minded. Incidentally if dinner is at 4 then the first glass of wine of the day will be around 3.30. Except on Monday and Tuesday which are our (mostly) alcohol free days and very bloody boring as a result. It’s not quite life by stopwatch as in picture above but it has a flavour of same.
Our guilty secret is that, unless it’s a special meal, we eat while watching TV, the meal on our laps (on a plate and tray of course). The only restriction being it has to be a documentary programme because it’s still early in the day. We watched a programme about Canaletto last week. Meal and documentary over, we can now totally relax. This is another part of the day when the concept of balance comes into play.
We did things, accomplished tasks, did useful things earlier in the day now we deserve to relax. Remember this is the time-tabled day of two retired people. Obviously it doesn’t work for an employed person. So two hours of pure TV indulgence follow. Whitechapel, Tin Star, Babylon Berlin. We tried Walking Dead but it’s full of dead people. That kind of thing.
At about 7 o’clock we head for the bedroom. Not to sleep but to read. We just find it easier to read fiction in bed. This is the hour when our fiction novels (usually crime) comes about. Jack Reacher, Agatha Christie. Just finished Martin Cruz Smith, Renko novel. Typical, lightweight bed time stuff.
We don’t want to be too stimulated although ghost stories often feature on my reading list. They have been known to cause me a little frisson of fear at 2 o’clock in the morning on my guaranteed trip along the landing to the bathroom. And then it’s light out about 8.30. I know it’s early but please bear in mind that Mrs SH arises at 5.30 and myself at 6.30. So that’s about a 14 hour day and we are retired.
Well that all sounds very regimented doesn’t it and of course it’s not that strict. Nor is it that predictable. And I expect to many of my readers it all sounds very dull as a retirement blog. I mean who gives a monkeys about our daily routine. It won’t be anything like yours but I describe it to make the simple point that, in times of lockdown, it helps (or such is my belief) to have a structure to hang on to.
In more normal times (remember those?) we wouldn’t be in the same house all week. We wouldn’t be eating every meal at home (we like our pub meals or coffee and cake in a café. We would make the odd trip into town to purchase the odd luxury item and we might even visit the odd museum or art gallery. Admittedly this is a rare occurrence and I include only to make us sound more cultured than we actually are.
By this time you might well be saying you didn’t need to describe the every nook and cranny of your daily timetable to convince us that routines are a good thing. You could just have written – a cloistered person needs a routine, and that would be enough.
But, apart from the fact that it would have made for a very short blog, I feel the need to convince you that having a daily routine can be enjoyable and furthermore distinctly good for your mental health. If, on the other hand, you look at my example above of a well-balanced day replete with routines, and think, bloody hell that sounds really boring, OK. But if you’re struggling with lockdown (and you may not be), work out what kind of day will be good for your own mental health. Then do it.