Commute

Our apartment is across the street from a major commuter rail station. Hundreds of cars park in the lot. More hundreds enter the lot and swing by the front door of the station dropping off passengers. Still more walk to the station. I’m not sure a bus appears on a regular schedule, perhaps so. I've just not noticed it. But you get the picture. Thousands of souls appear daily to travel to work. In the evening the process is reverse. Dragging and rumpled, they reappear and travel toward home.

I used to do this. By bicycle, car, train…I made the daily commute to work. For many years it was by train – 4 hours each day including the wait on the station platform. In those days I walked to the station on each end of the commute. A mile on the home end, a mile an a half on the city end. That’s 5 miles a day. Of walking. In all kinds of weather.

Luckily then I worked at a university campus. Oh we wore ties and suit coats, but when the weather was foul we wore anoraks, boots, and turtleneck sweaters. If the cold snap was long enough and the snow piled high enough, we became downright slovenly. If it was important to cut a good appearance during the day, we would carry better cloths, or drop off extra garments over the weekend. Traipsing through bad weather was just not worth ruining good shoes and suits. Or putting up with the discomfort of snow down the ankles, soaked cold toes, or……

Later the commute was by car. Hours of driving, mostly sitting in traffic. Transmissions overheating, brakes wearing out, engine oil disappearing along with frayed nerves and sunny dispositions.

Then for nearly 20 years my commute was 15 feet from the master bedroom to the home office. Communication was by phone and email. Most of the work was done in my brain and recorded in reports and computer files. Upon occasion I visited the clients and performed planning sessions and consults. Then those drives were long but pleasant, to upper Minnesota, western Missouri, downstate Illinois, or anywhere in the Chicago metro area. Thirty-five thousand miles per year in client visits, not commutes. Trips with hotels and restaurants. Little towns and big cities, the cultures were many and varied. But not a commute.

In retirement there is no commute.

And that is a good thing. I didn't mind travel. Looked forward to it, even. It provided the cocoon in which to think and ponder things of importance. Without interruption. But commuting I detested. So routine. So drab. So time consuming. So boring. Until I converted the time to reading and studying. Then it didn't seem bad at all, unless I fell asleep and missed by train stop!

Yes, in retirement there is no commute. I still travel to client meetings, but now those clients are mentees and I am the mentor. Our meet spots are Panera Breads and volunteered office sites provided by SCORE, libraries and businesses. Our work is serious and valuable. But free. And challenging and fun.

We do these meets more than a few times each week. But never during commute times. That would spoil the fun of mentorship.

That’s the commitment. No commuting.

January 7, 2015