My Re-Discovery of Life

Faces in a crowd,

all with stories to tell.

Copyright © 2018

by Ralph F. Couey

In the past month I've made a couple of changes in my life.  Until recently, my days consisted of that curious state known as "being retired."  Each day was pretty much a blank slate, punctuated by the odd appointment or commitment.   I floated from one day to the next, the only regular activity being walking/hiking, and my continued efforts at writing.  But my wife, who knows me better than I know myself, saw that I was stagnating.  And she was right.  I was drained of ideas for writing subjects, and the three books I am working on had shown efforts that could be kindly referred to as desultory.

And truthfully, I was getting bored.

Clearly it was time to pep things up.  Cheryl "suggested" that I go get a job.  The reason I put that word in quotations is that her suggestions are usually synonymous with the force of law.  But she had a good point, so I complied.  In person and online, I submitted about a dozen or so applications, carefully chosen.  One of them was a Target store nearby.  I had gone there several times before, since the pharmacy I use is contained therein.  I remembered, however, that on my visits how impressed I was with the staff.  They all seemed uniformly happy, not only with each other, but to be working there.  Also, I noted that without exception, they all worked hard; nobody was merely going through the motions.  This is one of the clear signs of a positive and supportive management philosophy.  If I was going to have to re-join the workforce, I wanted it to be a good experience.

So one day, while picking up some prescriptions, I went to the computer terminal displaying the sign, "apply here" and filled out the job application.  About a week later, I received a call asking me to come in for an interview.  I showed up wearing slacks, dress shirt, and coat (but no tie), possibly a tad overdressed for a retail job.  Nevertheless, I was warmly welcomed and introduced to a few people.  The interview, really a canned question and answer session, went well.  A week later, I was invited back for another interview, which also went well.  Three days later, they called and offered me the job.



Target is, as everyone knows, one of the largest retailers in the U.S.  Having worked for the Navy and the Federal Government, I was prepared for the experience of dealing with a large and probably obtuse bureaucracy.  In fact, I found quite the opposite.  The local management (or leaders, as they are called) proved to be attentive and responsive.  They were willing to listen to me as well as talk to me.  The staff is friendly, outgoing, and very good at making each other feel valued and important.  Each store has a large number of teams, attending to the myriad tasks required to make this engine run.  Although I had no real preference, I was placed with the cashiers.  I was a bit nervous, as modern computer-controlled cash registers can be notoriously complex.  But I was trained well, and shown great patience as I worked through the inevitable errors a new team member is going to commit.  Now, about a month in, I have mastered most of the functions, and have had no trouble getting help when I needed it.  Even though it seemed that these errors cropped up when there were at least 5 customers (guests, as Target prefers) in line.

As I have been engaging and interacting with the guests, I discovered how much I had missed those conversations.  I have always enjoyed working with people, and these experiences have been entertaining.

I am a writer, which means I have a natural curiosity about world around me, including the humans who inhabit the place.  It is easy to look at people as a group and not see anything particularly interesting.  But behind the faces in that crowd are stories to be told.  People, generally speaking, have been eager to respond to my questions, because in order to hear their stories, all that is needed is an opportunity and a willing ear.

I've met people working in business, either in an office, on the street, or out of their home.  I've met moms who may be overwhelmed by the moment, but never forget that those little children are going to grow up, and that those years will pass by much quicker than they think.  I see young people just starting out on their adventure, and older ones writing their final chapters.  I met a grandmother who lived on the same block as two sets of grandchildren, and who was saddened by the news that both sets were being relocated, one to Charleston, the other to Sacramento.  Those grandkids had been the anchor and glue that held her life together, and now she felt her world was being torn apart.  There was the college student who had graduated with a degree in Peace Studies, but was going back again for a degree in nursing because, as anyone could have predicted, jobs in the former subject were very nearly nonexistent.  The high school senior who had earned a full ride to the school of her choice, bubbling over with excitement.  There have been those whose lives are passing by at high speed, and others whose afternoons are best spent on the deck in the sunshine with a cold drink and a good book.

As I have heard their stories, I have also shared bits and pieces of mine.  In those moments, we two, strangers both, shared something important between us.  As a result of these rich experiences, I find now that the stubborn block that was erected between my mind and keyboard is being worn away.  I find life so much more interesting now because of the diversity and uniqueness of each moment passed between the broccoli and boxes of diapers.

Physically, this has been a bit challenging.  While I have been walking between twenty and thirty miles per week, that effort is completely different than standing still.  But those initial aches and pains are beginning to fade, as my body has adjusted to this new thing.  I am having fun, something I thought I would never hear myself admit.  And that's a very good thing.

The other new thing is that I'm taking voice lessons.  I've sung many times in church and occasionally at parties, but I've always wanted to get better.  Through a mutual contact, I met my teacher Suzanne, an allergy-ridden but cheerful dynamo of energy.  In the three lessons I've had, she has taken me to a level I never would have gotten to on my own.  The people at church, several of them professional musicians, can already hear the difference.

The lessons were nothing like I had expected.  In week one, I learned that I was standing and breathing wrong.  The exercises she had me do consisted of producing some really (to my ears anyway) odd sounds, a collection of emissions that might have done credit to an insane asylum, or a hospital emergency room.  But I have learned the method of that seeming madness.  As Mr. Miyagi's legendary "wax on, wax off" produced in his student effective karate blocking techniques, these seemingly silly vocal exercises have allowed me to find things like resonance which is so important in producing quality tones.  Also, being a tenor, I am slightly obsessed with hitting notes in the upper register.  Using my neck only in the past, while I may have hit those notes, they were far from musical.  Suzanne has taught me to use other parts, and employ techniques that have allowed me to reach some of those notes with a fraction of the effort, and with much more musicality.

This was something I wanted to do for many years, and I am excited to finally be involved.  It hasn't been easy, as I have had to unlearn a lifetime of bad habits, and she does make me work.  But the results are already apparent, and I am eager to see just how far I can go.

These two new activities have made my life much more interesting, if busier.  But as I've been endlessly told, at this stage of life, it's far better to be busy than...just retired.  There is a joy to my life that has been missing for way too long.

And after losing a career, I have rediscovered purpose.