by Rick Planos
For years I worried about what would happen next. I could never be happy where I was, it was always about the next promotion, the next big house, the next stage. As a guy who grew up with more than the normal amount of insecurities, I never came into my own until my mid-twenties when my career took off. My self-worth, my perceived status, and my purported value to society were all built on the jobs that took up 70 hours a week of my time.
When I turned 60, my entire life was upended. First, the retail stores career that had defined me for 40 years imploded between a decaying brand, the demise of regional malls, and an illegal termination. Next, my widowed mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and as the dutiful middle child, I assumed her care-becoming a full-time, unpaid, live-in caregiver. Subsequently, my 33-year marriage dissolved ending in a very civil, yet heartbreaking, divorce. Suddenly my so-called ‘perfect life’ of 2 kids, a big house in the suburbs, and all the frequent flier miles we could cram into 3 weeks of vacation, was flipped upside down. I was reduced to sleeping in the same twin bed I used in 3rd grade and navigating the long goodbye of seeing your last parent become more like your child. Along with all this drama, I was trying to educate myself about a medical condition I knew nothing about, and navigating all the psychological baggage that comes when the family relationships are affected as you watch the matriarch you love cross to the other side. By the end, I learned a lot about myself and found meaning in what is commonly referred to as the third chapter of my life.
If you are like me, you have probably never heard the term, third chapter. Like that first AARP magazine, the first cashier who offers you a ‘senior discount’, or the anti-inflammatory you now need to walk a few blocks without wincing, people don’t generally think about third chapters until they are forced into retirement.
I was schooled by a smarter friend about a common philosophy that for many of us, our adult life breaks into three chapters. First is the chapter on figuring out your lane, field of interest, or specialty/career, and building a relationship/family. Second is maximizing those choices, advancing or perfecting your career, making money, and raising children. While some people unfortunately go directly from work to the grave, most of us find other things to focus on after our career winds down or we retire.
For a guy like me, going from 70 hours a week of high-intensity retail work, international plane flights, multiple relocations, two very active kids, and a long happy marriage, the sudden stillness of that all ending was a major dose of culture shock. As my beloved retail career died after 40 years due to a combination of ageism and economic trends away from shopping in stores, I wondered if a day filled with The Price is Right and Fox News was my future. The big house was sold at a loss, the urgent work phone calls were replaced by scam calls, the kids had their own careers and little time to talk, and the Hugo Boss suits that no longer fit were replaced by gym shorts and t-shirts emblazoned with former company logos.
Before my iPhone warned me for the tenth time that my screen time was over 9 hours per day, I developed a game plan. First I had a parent to care for with a disease none of us understood, so I had to educate myself. Along with that, there were clinical trials to participate in, doctors to research, and medications to test. To get out of the house for my own sanity, I tried volunteering. Soon I was volunteering for 5 different organizations and learning that my prior business skills made me pretty desirable as a volunteer. Volunteering led to Board of Directors roles and next, I added fundraising to my bag of tricks. To prevent brain rot, I took a few online courses and eventually learned that graduate school at 60 is a lot more enjoyable than undergraduate school at 19. Miraculously those C’s as a bachelor’s degree candidate at the state college morphed into A’s in the master’s program at the Kellogg School of Management at Northwestern. My calendar was now chock-a-blocked with things to do. Maybe I wasn’t a has-been after all.
I found this unexpected third chapter is more fulfilling than all those years combined working my butt off to get ahead.
I now pick and choose the projects I want to do. If I want to take off a week to spoil my Grandson, I can do it whenever I want. As Carl Honore’ espouses in his best seller, Slower, I can read and absorb more because I don’t have to rush to the next airport. When I travel domestically, I drive and pull off to see the sites along the way. I don’t have to grab a quick bite at Olive Garden because I know it is ‘ safe’, I can look through Yelp to find the best local authentic Italian linguine with clam sauce.
Most importantly, every project I take on is completely aligned with my values. No more am I selling fashion that was at times made in Chinese sweatshops. No longer do I have to beg people to leave their Thanksgiving family dinners early because the mall is opening at noon for some crazy sale that never quite pans out. And no longer am I telling my team a corporate line that I know is at best half true to keep them from quitting during the holiday season.
So if you are a person of a certain age, wondering about where your life is going post-career and child-rearing, start thinking now of where you might want to focus your attention if you could choose anything. For me, this third chapter of giving back, helping others, and learning for learning’s sake-not for a grade, has been my favorite part of life to date. I am far prouder of that Best Wish Granter keychain from Make a Wish than I ever was from a $10,000 bonus check. The pro bono mentoring and coaching I do is helping to level the economic playing field in Chicago more than any region of stores I led ever could. This unexpected and initially unplanned third chapter has turned out far better than all the years I spent designing the previous “ perfect life” that today, I barely recall.
