Retirement or engagement

 

As I write this, on the other side of the world Russian troops are bombarding cities in Ukraine, and countries around the globe are on alert. An unspeakable threat of nuclear war wavers on the margins of sight.

At times it overwhelms me. Other times I forget about it altogether. Life just goes on.

Last week we attended an extended family gathering to celebrate Celeb’s 16^th birthday. Food, presents, the hubbub of multiple conversations, the chaos of excited kids—it all contributed to the party atmosphere. But looking back on the evening, I realized that no one even mentioned Ukraine. I certainly didn’t. Didn’t even think about it. And now I’m wrestling with guilt.

So I ask, am I becoming paranoid as I age? Would bringing up a world crisis even have been inappropriate? Shouldn’t life just go on? Didn’t Caleb deserve his party?

Another thing that acerbates my wrestling is life here in the retirement community. Our needs are so well taken care of. It’s like a place of refuge where we’re sheltered from the trauma of the outside world. As I search for metaphors, I come up with a bubble, a cocoon, or an isolation ward. These are all probably exaggerations, but they contain truth. Ongoing pandemic restrictions add to the sense of separation.

I’m sure this separation from the world is not the intention of those who administer this facility. Protection, yes; deliberate isolation from everything else, no. And yet silence over the crisis in Ukraine troubles me.

The other evening Hal and I watched the evening news, as usual, taking time to pray afterwards. As we prayed, someone knocked on our door, rather timidly as though hesitant to disturb us at this hour. It was a single lady who lives in the apartment just down the hall. She had also been watching the news and was experiencing fear. She just needed someone to talk to. So we talked and prayed together. She may have been a little more peaceful as she returned to her rooms.

The next day the community-life director visited each residence with a small gift and the activity calendar for the following month. As usual, many educational, social, and service opportunities have been planned. That’s good. It’s one of the advantages of living here.

She then asked me if I had any concerns, and I told her of my dis-ease with the lack of any formal attention to what was happening in Ukraine and that the planned activities didn’t include a means of talking about the crisis, better understanding the situation, and facing it together. She listened respectfully, suggested the prayer meeting committee might organized a special Zoom meeting, and said she’d bring it up with the staff. Later that week the community newsletter announced there would be several minutes of silence for world peace the following Monday. It seemed like a weak response.

This is a Continuing Care Retirement Community (CCRC), and as such includes neighborhoods of those in assisted living, a memory-loss unit, and the health center where people need 24/7 care. The staff needs to address the needs of these neighborhoods, and for most of these residents, protection, shelter, and facing the end of life are the prime issues. But the rest of us residents, the majority, are classified as independent, and we have different needs. Some of us need to keep connected to the world around us and respond to what’s happening.

The responsibility for our responses ultimately rests with each individual, in spite of the protective atmosphere of a retirement center. And the struggle for an appropriate response is certainly not limited to retired people. Maybe it has more to do with being human, privileged, and geographically removed from the suffering.

This leads me to a comparison of the words, “retirement” and “engagement.” In a certain sense, they’re opposites. “Retirement” carries the connotations of withdrawal, receding, moving back, even going to bed. A retiring person is exceedingly shy. Of course, a common connotation is simply a planned withdrawal from one’s working life or profession. A retirement community is composed of these persons. Most of the residents here are not at all shy, although most of us enjoy an afternoon nap.

“Engagement” is active and involved. It refers to a moving forward, facing an issue, joining other people, and doing stuff. It contrasts to the basic meaning of retirement.

So, can a retired person be engaged in the life around her? Can he be actively involved in the issues of the day? Should she want to know what’s happening in Ukraine and what she can do about it? These are all obviously rhetorical questions. Even so, life in a retirement community requires extra effort (and a little help from the institution) to engage in the world outside.

 Query: How do you face the tension between retirement and engagement?