Last week I told you what Fay said about retirement.
Last week Fay told you retirement was a myth.
And last week I told you I’d explain how my recent trip to Italy convinced me that Fay was right.
Which brings us, right here right now, to this week.
So… here goes.
Retirement is a Myth; Exhibit number 1.
Ever been to St-Peter’s Cathedral? Or the Vatican Museum? Or The Sistine Chapel?
If you haven’t, please listen up, ‘cause this is important.
Put the Vatican on your bucket list.
Trust me on this one.
The Vatican (not to mention most of Rome) is something almost indescribable, a visual, an aural—a metaphysical, even—extravaganza. A treat for the senses.
But you know what came to mind as we stared—our necks sore from all that craning, especially in the Sistine chapel—at the artistry, the majesty and the splendour?
It’s this.
Popes don’t retire.
Let’s face it, anyone with a working knowledge of Catholicism will know that their top guy is ancient—he’s one old dude.
Popes don’t retire. They’re popes for life. And that’s even if said life carries them into their 80s or, as in the case of Pope Leo XIII, well into their 90s.
And so, the questions teased me. Why is that? Why don’t they retire?
And then, later, mesmerized by the kinetic energy that is Rome, something else dawned on me.
As I walked along ancient, romantic streets—along narrow alleyways and grande piazze—I witnessed even more testimony to a life of non-retirement.
Michelangelo—auteur of the Sistine Chapel, of La Pietá and of who knows how many breathtaking masterpieces—worked well into his 80s.
And that’s not all
Roman emperors—who, two thousand years prior, walked the very paths and passageways that I now walked—ruled Rome forever. The emperor Augustus (yes, the guy who the month is named after) reigned over his empire for almost 41 years, until his death at the age of 77.
Retirement, I learned, didn’t (and for many still doesn’t) exist in Rome. And because of it, men accomplished great things.
When (not) in Rome… Try Florence.
Ah, Florence—the inspirational home of the renaissance, the city of the Medici, the birthplace of Michelangelo and Brunelleschi.
As in Rome, the giants of Firenze didn’t retire either.
Fillipo Brunelleschi, the great architect who accomplished the impossible and completed Il Duomo’s magnificent dome, died at the age of 69 and continued working until the very end.
Cosimo de’ Medici, founder of the powerful family whose finances sparked the very creation of the renaissance, continued to influence Florence commerce and culture until well into his 70s.
Retirement? No, not here either.
So what then does Fay mean when she speaks of retirement and of myths?
Well, if it hasn’t become clear to you, the principal myth about retirement is the one that says we should retire in the first place.
What I’m suggesting, in effect, is that life is not about stopping.
What I’m saying is life is about creating.
And, what I’m saying—what I learned in Italy—is there is a profound beauty of human experience to be gained when one is engaged in an endless pursuit of meaning and passion and purpose.
That’s what Michelangelo and Brunelleschi and Cosimo de’ Medici taught me; to be passionate, to be driven and to do what’s meaningful. No matter how old I become.
And what I’m now suggesting, as much to myself as to you, is to debunk the myth, to forget—to forego—retirement and to mimic Michelangelo, Brunelleschi, and the popes themselves.
Let’s not talk of retirement. That’s but a dead-end.
Let’s rather discover how we could, in our own small way, create our own Sistine Chapels, our own cathedral domes, our own lives ripe with purpose and meaning.
