Dispatch from the No-Deadline Zone
- alinamatas
- Apr 25
- 5 min read
Updated: May 3
In my previous post I included a list of projects and activities I want and plan to pursue now that I have more free time. I am happy to report that I have pursued...none of them.
The list is still valid, the projects still worthwhile.
But, a funny thing happened on my way to retirement projects. Two things, actually.
I was easing into leisurely mornings, contemplating choices for my unstructured time. By "easing into" I mean embodying my new reality, cleansing my mind from information I don't need anymore, making room for visions of new projects, learning to enjoy free time without the bookends of work before and after the free time. I was beginning to savor this invigorating feeling of expansion when...work came knocking.
It was a new post-retirement client, not ones I mentioned in an earlier post. This client needed help crafting an investor pitch deck for his business venture.
Why me, I asked him. I would charge him, while the SBDC has free guidance for a DIY investor pitch deck. (A pitch deck is essentially a Powerpoint presentation with an expected order of slides and specific content in each.)
The client said he had tried doing it himself, but hadn't been able to put it together. Seeing his frustration, a former SBDC colleague who is advising the client referred him to me, saying I'd be best suited to help with this.
I told the client I would work with him, but wouldn't do the work for him. The pitch deck needs to be his, at least in substance. Investors speak a certain language, and he needs to understand what that is, hence the standard order and content of slides through which I would guide him.
The client agreed, sent an initial payment and off we embarked on several working sessions. They were grueling. His business proposal is dense with a lot of legalese, and the client was invested in reproducing it all in the pitch deck. Steering him away from that approach required a certain kind of argumentative arm-wrestling.
In one of our working sessions I decided to let him talk to his heart's content, rather than prompt him to get started on the task of extracting relevant content and creating the slides. I timed him as he talked on and on. He described his prospective business for the upteenth time, because "it is really important" that I understand why his digital platform will be the best thing to happen to his industry.
When he finally made a pause, I intervened.
"You've been talking for forty-five minutes, describing the same stuff you have described to me a million times. And we've only done two slides. At this rate, we'll never finish."
"Forty-five minutes?" he asked, surprised.
"Yes, forty-five minutes that you are paying for."
"It's just very important that you understand this," he repeated.
"But I do!" I insisted, almost yelling, or probably actually yelling. "At this point I understand your business better than anyone, and more than I ever wanted to or need to. Let's move on!"
Our working sessions have become more productive since then, but still very mentally absorbing, as part of my job is to prevent him from reproducing forty-five minutes worth of verbiage in each slide.
This week my client hasn't scheduled because he's under the weather, which is why I find myself indulging in this blog. (Thanks for reading!) It's been four whole days of dolce far niente, or sweet doing nothing. The nothing is relative, of course. I have paid bills, made travel reservations, worked out, socialized, gone biking, read.
But I haven't tackled anything on the list of projects that were waiting for all that free retirement time. And here's the second funny thing that happened.
I have developed a personal guideline for retirement: If I'm not completely invested in a project or activity—if I'm not feeling it 100 percent, or at least 90 percent—I'm postponing it.
This is called luxurious postponement, LP for short.
I just made up that term and there's no psychological research to back it up, but there's a good reason for this made-up thing.
If I'm not entirely in the mood or ready to take on tasks, it's because I'm tired, physically or mentally or both. Isn't the luxury of retirement having the choice to avoid "powering through" periods of low energy? When it comes to job demands, you don't have that option. But in retirement?
After all, my projects will still be there next week, next month, or even next year. None of them are essential to my well being or that of others. Projects on my list will have their time, as other projects did while I was working and I squeezed them in.
And that's just it, I don't want to squeeze these projects or squeeze myself into getting them done. So rather than making phone calls I’d rather avoid, or gathering quotes I’m not ready to assess, I’m taking it easy.
I’m indulging in hours of listening to WLRN while doing stretching exercises. Or I’m going shopping at Ross Dress for Less on a weekday, to give my mind something mindless to engage in, contradictory as that might seem.
My mind and body always recharge after some dolce far niente, sweet doing nothing, which really means sweetly engaging in activities that aren't necessarily aimed at achieving a specific goal.
It took me some time to come to terms with the idea that it's okay to delay activities I wish to pursue, and it doesn't mean I'm abandoning them. It took some not-doing to see how beneficial it can be. It's okay to forego the satisfaction of finished projects and tasks, in favor of a rested body and a refreshed mind. What a luxury!
For sure, there are times when consistent, disciplined effort is necessary. Growth and progress are impossible without it. Sometimes, exerting effort, even if it feels compulsive or forced, is the only option. Power to you if that's your situation.
Back to my client, I left it up to him to let me know when he's good and ready to re-take the work, and I'll be available to finish it. The deadline is up to him, because this effort is his to make.
Meanwhile, I'm indulging in the luxury of doing nothing specific, simply following the day's impulses, whether that means tinkering around the house, biking in the park, watching Netflix, or... whatever I have a mind to do. It's a simple luxury and I'm grateful for having it and thrilled to enjoy it.
P.S. - In this more expansive retirement mode, I made two dessert recipes for our Easter potlock - a flourless Nutella cake and an almond-coconut cake. Fast and easy, gluten free and yummy. Recipes below:
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