I was emotional reading this. I’m a long way away (I hope) from retirement but this is describing something I already recognize in myself. It took me a while to recognize it for what it was and try to correct it. I worry what would happen to my nervous system if/when I actually do stop one day. Maybe I just won’t.
Great and familiar piece, Kevin. For any journalists approaching this stage, I highly recommend finding an intermediate job that keeps you busy and connected but allows the weaning to begin. (Don't get me wrong, I'm still hooked, just not like I was when I was in the daily trenches.)
11 years, found an very busy substitute for a spell, and still not fully weaned.
This line hit home:
“The cortisol arrives but nothing gets explained, nothing gets resolved, and nobody is served. You just absorb the frequency of alarm without the discipline that once made alarm useful.”
"Nothing gets explained, nothing gets resolved, and nobody is served." Many of our current journalists won't find the transition as difficult as you are finding it. Good luck!
Thanks for an awesome description of the transitional experience of retirement. Shared by so many in so many fields in addition to journalism.
I believe it’s in man’s nature to be either a hunter or a gatherer. And when your hunt ends, your remaining contribution to the tribe is to pass on your wisdom to younger members.
Yes, yes, yes. My experience was not a journalistic one but it had its own pressure, rhythm and consequences. I missed it when it suddenly wasn't there. This is why retirement without a project can be dangerous.
I remember pitching a story about your overnight ABC newscast with Thalia Assuras to Saturday Night, the magazine that I wrote for at the time (~35 years ago). Wish my editors had bitten on it--I was headed to NYC for a story on Dick Pound and the IOC. I just wonder if somehow the physical and emotional tests of those early days build resolve and will and light fires that just never go out. I got a bit of a late start in the biz and was out of it for a couple of years coming out of j-school and a couple of more when snagged in budget cuts. I scrambled back out of semi-retirement to work for a paper in the small burgh I moved to--a cub reporter in my dotage. Just the doing of it, no matter what the scale, has its rich rewards. I don't want to ever be out--waters where I swam i'm now content to wade.
What I learned after I left was that I was dealing with two things: hidden trauma from scenes I witnessed and whose images lay in wait in my subconscious; and the effects on my system of the work itself: the rush, the stress, the deadlines, the never-ending events on the horizon whose coverage demanded planning, the negotiations with management. I was sustained by the tribe and the idea that the work had value - we were providing a public service. (In my case, to immigrant communities in Canada.) Now I'm active in non-profit organizations as a volunteer, still proud of those years of effort, occasionally tormented about aspects of the former job, but much healthier.
Thanks for this Kevin. There is a reason that the military has a Transition Centre and you just described it very well. It hadn’t occurred to me that many civilian careers have the same problems and should have access to the benefits of a Transition Centre. Hang in there, you fully grasp the problem and that is a big hurdle cleared.
I've been out of the newsroom (off the assignment desk) for almost 40 years. And this is the finest description/explanation of the experience - during and after - that I've ever encountered. Thank you for helping me to understand.
I live in a town where there are quite a few adrenaline junkies, who eventually need to modulate as well-used bodies start to howl. Nothing to do with journalism, and yet this was resonant. Pondering.
I was emotional reading this. I’m a long way away (I hope) from retirement but this is describing something I already recognize in myself. It took me a while to recognize it for what it was and try to correct it. I worry what would happen to my nervous system if/when I actually do stop one day. Maybe I just won’t.
Great and familiar piece, Kevin. For any journalists approaching this stage, I highly recommend finding an intermediate job that keeps you busy and connected but allows the weaning to begin. (Don't get me wrong, I'm still hooked, just not like I was when I was in the daily trenches.)
11 years, found an very busy substitute for a spell, and still not fully weaned.
This line hit home:
“The cortisol arrives but nothing gets explained, nothing gets resolved, and nobody is served. You just absorb the frequency of alarm without the discipline that once made alarm useful.”
"Nothing gets explained, nothing gets resolved, and nobody is served." Many of our current journalists won't find the transition as difficult as you are finding it. Good luck!
What a tremendous piece, beautifully written.
Thanks for an awesome description of the transitional experience of retirement. Shared by so many in so many fields in addition to journalism.
I believe it’s in man’s nature to be either a hunter or a gatherer. And when your hunt ends, your remaining contribution to the tribe is to pass on your wisdom to younger members.
Yes, yes, yes. My experience was not a journalistic one but it had its own pressure, rhythm and consequences. I missed it when it suddenly wasn't there. This is why retirement without a project can be dangerous.
I remember pitching a story about your overnight ABC newscast with Thalia Assuras to Saturday Night, the magazine that I wrote for at the time (~35 years ago). Wish my editors had bitten on it--I was headed to NYC for a story on Dick Pound and the IOC. I just wonder if somehow the physical and emotional tests of those early days build resolve and will and light fires that just never go out. I got a bit of a late start in the biz and was out of it for a couple of years coming out of j-school and a couple of more when snagged in budget cuts. I scrambled back out of semi-retirement to work for a paper in the small burgh I moved to--a cub reporter in my dotage. Just the doing of it, no matter what the scale, has its rich rewards. I don't want to ever be out--waters where I swam i'm now content to wade.
A great piece. Yes well written. Kevin was part of everyone's nightly news check in for many for many years
Sounds like my post-ATC career. PTSD is a real thing that takes many forms.
Thank you for this Kevin. I hope you find enough of your peace to get some peace.
What I learned after I left was that I was dealing with two things: hidden trauma from scenes I witnessed and whose images lay in wait in my subconscious; and the effects on my system of the work itself: the rush, the stress, the deadlines, the never-ending events on the horizon whose coverage demanded planning, the negotiations with management. I was sustained by the tribe and the idea that the work had value - we were providing a public service. (In my case, to immigrant communities in Canada.) Now I'm active in non-profit organizations as a volunteer, still proud of those years of effort, occasionally tormented about aspects of the former job, but much healthier.
Thanks for this Kevin. There is a reason that the military has a Transition Centre and you just described it very well. It hadn’t occurred to me that many civilian careers have the same problems and should have access to the benefits of a Transition Centre. Hang in there, you fully grasp the problem and that is a big hurdle cleared.
Similarly for we who retired from 40+ years as police officers. Thank you, Kevin.
I've been out of the newsroom (off the assignment desk) for almost 40 years. And this is the finest description/explanation of the experience - during and after - that I've ever encountered. Thank you for helping me to understand.
Well said. The situation has changed. But the internal chemistry has not resolved. This is familiar to me.
I live in a town where there are quite a few adrenaline junkies, who eventually need to modulate as well-used bodies start to howl. Nothing to do with journalism, and yet this was resonant. Pondering.
Keep working on serenity mon ami. And maybe a garden.