Retired, sick
Retirement was a process for me: There is the date when I stopped work because I was sick; the date I formally left my congregation, and the date when the last of my super was paid out. Today is the second anniversary of the date I formally left my congregation. This post reflects on these two years
The first thing I found was that I was profoundly exhausted. I knew I was very tired. That was why I first took some sick leave. But a day or two in, I found I was far more tired than I had realised. With the pressure of work removed, I simply ceased to function.
I had worked 13 years in (at a minimum) three jobs, one of which had multiple clients. This is the new reality for many clergy. "Multi-vocational ministry," also called "tentmaking," really means "We can’t afford to pay you." So you juggle family, congregation, and another job or two. I thought I was managing all of this quite well; I was very fit and healthy for my age. But just as exercise can’t outrun calories, neither can exercise and other disciplines outrun too much to do.
In fact, despite how organised and proactive I thought I had been, and how well I had managed the competing calls on my time, I found instead that I had been organised by my work. When I stopped, I had no idea how to live. I had to learn to live all over again, because everything had been shaped around lectionary, congregation(s), computer clients, and my partner, in order to survive. She was all I had left.
Church, the community which had given me life and a place to be, had no attraction at all. I didn't really know how to be in a church when I was not the minister. Covid meant that for some months there was no congregation to attend in any case.
And I have not become less tired. I'm still exhausted. I can't organise time to do things. I'm a mess.