During my first publishing job out of college, a vice president with a tenure of more than 40 years reluctantly decided finally to retire. He was one of those old-school executives who was well into his workday by the time the rest of us editors arrived in the morning, and I have no doubt he turned the lights off in the building at the end of the day. Two weeks after retiring, the VP was back in his former office on Monday morning. Life after publishing, it seemed, wasn’t working out so well for him. He had fostered no hobbies or other interests, and career was what got him out of bed in the morning. So, the company agreed to keep him in an emeritus role, and he came out of retirement. Several years later, I left that publishing house to pursue a new opportunity, and the gentleman was still occupying his corner office five days a week. He was 82 years old.
I’m grateful in more ways than I can count to have hobbies. My weekend shop time allows me personal space for creativity, purpose, accomplishment and peace. I don’t think I’ll ever lose the simple joy of working with my hands or the rewarding sense of pride these activities give me. Thanks in large part to various hobbies, the thought of retiring one day doesn’t scare me. How I’ll fill my days is already clear. I’ll leave work on a Friday for the last time. And when Monday rolls around, I’ll turn the lights on in my home shop, grab a board or a wrench or a bowl blank and smile. I’ll get back to my work away from work that never really feels like work. Retirement, I’m pretty sure, will suit me well.
Chris Marshall, Woodworker’s Journal
Gluing Up Sub-Assemblies
Track and Circular Saw Fundamentals
Build a Kitchen Island
Woodworker’s Dog Bed
