A few years ago, I became somewhat befuddled about what to do with my life.
Okay, I was completely befuddled.
The cause was (as I put it) losing my job—being displaced, severanced and bridged to an early retirement. My 15-year-old daughter put it this way: fired, broke, preparing to sell the house. Don’t you hate it when your kids get it right?
Anyway, I did what anyone else would have done in my situation: I created a new holiday.
On my calendar, Arrival Day falls on any day in the week before Thanksgiving—though you can slot it anywhere during the year. On this day, the celebrant takes a round-trip on the Staten Island Ferry, across New York Harbor going out, and more importantly, coming back. Coming back past Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, you imagine yourself as a new immigrant, with all of your belongings in a bag and your life savings—maybe $50 or $1,000—in your pocket…
My job as an administrative executive at a large publisher was eliminated over two years ago, after almost 18 years there. Although this is never good, I was treated respectfully, paid a very fair severance and retired this March. In some ways, this fact and, later, “the recession,” may have sparked dormant creativity. I began to re-teach myself how to write, composing haiku or light verse almost everyday. I also expanded my illustrated notebooks and journals, kept for years, and began making original collages.
In March, I started a small consulting firm, and Christie’s is my first client. So, I am at Ground Zero of what I think of as a deep and profound cultural shift, rather than merely a “recession.” I have a daughter who is 23 and a son, 25, both striking out on their own as well…