Within my writing community we have a name for those unexpected events that throw your world into chaos. We call them "life rolls."
The phrase came from a career simulation we used in a series of workshops designed to model a decade of a writing career. Participants tried to manage a variety of careers, with certain variables controlled by dice rolls. It wasn't perfect, but it did manage to mimic a lot of what went on in publishing at that time and it provided insights on how, over time, certain behaviors and decisions could affect outcomes.
Early on we realized we were missing those random, lightning-strike events that could derail even the most carefully-planned path. A sudden illness, a death in the family, marriage or divorce, natural disasters, the unforeseen consequences of a windfall - all of these can cause turmoil that has far-reaching consequences.
I didn't plan on looking at this view, from the window of my hospital room, for nearly two weeks while on deadline, nor the weeks of recovery afterward. A definite life roll!
It's pretty easy to see that disasters could cause trouble, but so can success or good fortune, and it's something we need to keep in mind as we navigate our creative retirement.
We can all imagine, and have probably experienced, the disasters. By retirement age most of us have been through the death of a parent, maybe even a spouse, or a sibling. We understand, because we have been there, the months or years of disruption that loss brings. We can easily imagine the chaos that comes from a fire, or a flood. Even if we haven't experienced it first-hand we likely know someone who has.
That isn't fog, it's smoke. This picture was taken from our hotel room when we fled the wildfires last September. We didn't lose our house, but many of our friends did.
Less obvious, perhaps, are the positive events that disturb our plans and schedules and force us into new roles and patterns.
Earlier in our lives some of those are pretty clear. We got married, changed jobs, had kids. We might have moved across town or across country to follow a job, or a spouse's job.
I know it happened to me. My first husband came home from work one day when we were living in Los Angeles and announced that he had accepted a new job and we were moving to Seattle. I was a full-time student with a 5-year-old and an infant, and it was the first I'd heard of it, but I rolled with it and a few weeks later the kids were staying with my folks and I was house-hunting in Seattle. (There is a reason he became my ex-husband!)
Retirement is another of those watershed moments. Everything is up for consideration. Moving is possible, now that we aren't tied to a day job. The kids are grown and on their own (mostly), and our time is our own. The possibilities are sometimes overwhelming.
Eventually, though, we settle on a new normal. We choose where and how we will live, we reset our expectations and our relationships, and we find our new roles.
So now that you've found your new life you should be all set, right?
Did you really expect it was all going to be smooth sailing from here on? Really??
Not so fast. Do you really think the universe isn't going to mess with you? Do you think you'll be free to indulge your creativity without interference from capricious fates? Yeah, not so much.
Disruption, whether good or ill, is a given in life, and retirement doesn't change that. There will always be interruptions and it's a good idea to simply expect and accept them, and manage with as much grace as possible.
Life rolls are going to come at you from unexpected places. I hope it won't be something like a spouse announcing a plan to move 1,200 miles. It's up to us how we handle them, how they impact our creative lives, and how we treat ourselves while we are dealing with them.
I have watched people ignore problems, or try to continue with their normal routines while in the midst of a crisis. I continued to write during the 13-month period when both my parents passed away and I had a major health crisis. For me it was an escape from the immediate pain and darkness, but eventually I had to deal with the losses and it took a toll on my writing. It was several years before I realized what had happened - for a long time I was proud of the way I had soldiered on despite the pain - and how pain delayed was not pain defeated.
It was my coping mechanism, and it got me through the worst of that horrible year, but there was a price to pay. For many months during the aftermath I beat myself up about not writing. After all, if I could write through all the hard times I had faced why couldn't I write when things got better?
The answer was that I had just postponed the reckoning. I had pushed it back until I was in a place where it was safe to mourn, to feel the loss and the grief. Even now, years later, I miss my mom and dad and the pain is still there, though muted by time.
This is the lesson we need to take away from the recognition of life rolls.
The turmoil will come.
It will overwhelm you.
It will affect your creativity.
However you handle it is the right way for you. Grieve or celebrate immediately, or delay until you have the necessary distance. Dive into your creative pursuit as a safe and comfortable space, or drop it entirely for a time. Change your focus, your genre, your style as needed to accommodate your emotional landscape.
Do what works for you, and be gentle and generous with yourself.
Don't let your creative endeavors become a burden, but do let them become a respite if you can.
Whatever you do, try to remember that you can always come back to the creative outlet that you love when you are ready.
It will wait patiently until you are.