Halfway Down the Stairs

A beloved poem entitled Halfway Down the Stairs by A. A. Milne caught my eye recently. It conveys a child’s perspective about the special spot in the middle of a staircase. First published in 1924, two years before Winnie-the-Pooh, it was included in her collection of children’s poems entitled, When We Were Very Young.

Somehow, as I read those lovely verses I thought, that’s where I’m living! Taking it out of its original format, the poem reads:

Halfway down the stairs, is a stair where I sit. There isn't any other stair quite like it. I’m not at the bottom, I’m not at the top, so this is the stair where I always stop. Halfway up the stairs isn't up and it isn't down. It isn't in the nursery; it isn't in town. And all sorts of funny thoughts run round my head. It isn't really anywhere!

It's somewhere else instead!

Yup, retirement for me really isn’t anywhere –it’s somewhere else instead! On a given day it is wherever my thoughts take me. The freedom to decide the parameters of my daily life has settled into an easy fluctuation between necessity and spontaneity. Unresolved issues and undetermined solutions spiral manageably in my head: I’m neither at the bottom of my resources nor have I reached the top of future possibilities.

A midway stair for me is peaceful. Content to look out at the world from here, I am in no rush to get anywhere. Inevitability does not scare me; randomness is a lightshow on a wall. What matters to me is the consistent murmur of family interactions, the timely interface with authentic friends, the ongoing prospect of discovery and realization.

As I conclude my first year of retirement, I am grateful to have a chance to reflect on what it means to step away from the gusts of employment. New rhythms have found their pace; fresh inspirations have budded; old certainties remain in flux. What felt like a slightly scary experiment 12 months ago has morphed into my everyday life. A happy new life, indeed!