Resigned, not retired: don’t dismiss me that easily

Ever since the Times Union ran a story (and my office issued a press release) announcing my resignation as Director of Communications for the Diocese of Albany, I have been on the receiving end of lots of congratulatory comments that miss the mark. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the congratulations — because those are definitely warranted — but I feel like I need to set the record straight on the specific terms and definitions that surround this momentous decision.

I am NOT retiring. First of all, I’m too young to retire (59).  Second, I don’t really plan to retire EVER. I hope to write and lead retreats and teach yoga and do my thing until I just can’t go anymore. I don’t plan to stop until someone or something stops me. I have RESIGNED my position. I am leaving. Plain and simple. It was time. I am lucky enough to be able to make the choice to return to the work I love more than anything else. I realize that not everyone gets that choice or that chance, and I am grateful and thrilled to be able to walk away. I have to thank my family, specifically my husband, Dennis, for their complete and enthusiastic encouragement of a decision that seems somewhat crazy to those who a.) don’t know me that well or b.)  don’t know anything about the kind of work I’ve had to do for the past six+ years.

Over the course of the past two weeks, I’ve had someone ask me if I’m “moving south” in retirement (Imagine my family’s surprise if that was my plan!); if I’m going to focus on my hobbies (My 37-year career has never been a hobby.); if I’m going to spend more time with my family (Seriously? I need to spend LESS time with these people.); if I’m going to give Dennis a standing ovation every day when he leaves for work while I stay home and (apparently) do nothing (Nope. Although I have offered to walk the dog in the mornings, which I never have to do, thanks to Dennis.).

Day in and day out for 37 years I have been a writer, whether I was a reporter, an editor, a freelance writer, a full-time stay-at-home mom and freelance writer at the same time, a communications director, or, as has been the case for the past six+ years, a full-time communications director and a half-time freelance writer/retreat leader who also teaches yoga twice a week. So, essentially, for the past six+ years, I have done two (sometimes three) jobs, which might explain why I’m usually pushed to the breaking point and why Dennis does 95 percent of the cooking, cleaning and shopping for our family. Something had to give. And, when it came down to it, I had to choose what feeds me, not what drains me. And what feeds me is my work as a writer, retreat leader, and yoga teacher.

So… I welcome your congratulatory messages, just please congratulate me on my RESIGNATION. I wear that choice as a badge of honor. It wasn’t an easy choice. In fact, it was a downright courageous choice, for me and for my family, because it requires financial sacrifice, and because it will require a lot of energy and hard work and chutzpah, all of which I have in excess but at 59 it’s a little more daunting than it was at 30.

I cannot wait to get back to more writing, more blogging, more podcasting (which has been on hold for months at this point), more retreats, more yoga classes, more of everything that makes my heart sing. Even this website is about to undergo a transformation as a designer begins work on a new logo and overall theme. So stay tuned for that!

If you haven’t signed up for my “tribe,” which basically includes an occasional (the plan is monthly) newsletter with info on retreats, events, books and more, you can do that HERE. I promise not to drive you crazy with emails, because nobody needs more emails.

Thanks for letting me clarify all of this, because, to be honest, I thought and prayed too hard on this decision to have it reduced to early retirement when it is, in fact, a professional reset and a resumption of the career I had before I ever went to the Diocese of Albany. I’m back, baby, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

 

Photo by Ross Findon on Unsplash

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