"What's Next?" is the central theme of the questions people ask me these days. My official retirement date is July 31, and I sense much concern/curiosity around August 1. As many readers of Notebooks know, I will conclude 12 years as Bishop of the New England Synod very soon. For some reason, people who know me well have difficulty imagining me as retired. They have Florida, Golf, and Cable News in mind. Well, that's not for me. Instead, I've got an active next chapter in mind, which I highlight below. But first, I will give you some thoughts on the essence of retirement.

Someone referenced retirement around 13 B.C.E. when Emperor Augustus established a pension for soldiers who had served well. The more modern version came from German Chancellor Otto von Bismark in 1889, when he decided to pay citizens disabled from work by age or an inability to continue working. President Roosevelt signed the Social Security Act into law in the United States in 1935, establishing 65 as the retirement age. That made sense because the average life expectancy was around 58.

The Retirement Industrial Complex took hold of the Sunshine, Putting Green, TV theme and pounded it into our bodies. But that oversimplified something that has been changing through the years. Some want to kick back, but they are now the minority. In its place are people, myself included, who view this next chapter as a time to invest in creativity, worthwhile causes, supporting the next generation, and making a difference. Now that people live healthier and longer lives, this chapter might best be considered a third act. We grew up, learned, and established careers and family in acts one and two. Now, the third act is another chapter worth engaging in with intentionality.

But this chapter in life is more than just a series of hobbies and activities; something new is happening inside our souls. I wrote about this extensively in my book Weird Wisdom for the Second Half of Life. The work we are summoned to do now centers on a new calling to service, meaning, and wholeness. Yes, that work needs external expression, but it grows out of our inner soul work. As Carl Jung writes:

Wholly unprepared, we embark upon the second half of life. Or are there perhaps colleges for forty-year-olds which prepare them for their coming life and its demands as the ordinary colleges introduce our young people to a knowledge of the world? No, thoroughly unprepared, we take the step into the afternoon of life; worse still, we take this step with the false assumption that our truths and ideals will serve us as hitherto. But we cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life’s morning; for what was great in the morning will be little at evening, and what in the morning was true will at evening have become a lie. (Jung, Stages of Life Essay)

The call in this third act is to something deeper.

Nicola Slee remarks, “The process of spiritual awakening involves a shift from external achievement to internal growth, from being oriented towards the needs of others to becoming more fully oneself.” (The Faith Lives of Women and Girls: Qualitative Research Perspectives, 11)

While the language in these phrases, such as "becoming fully oneself," might make some cringe with a suggestion of a therapeutic deism, in my experience, one needs a both-and approach. Yes, there is a natural turn toward an inner life in the second half of life, but that requires an external expression, often in service to others, the planet, democracy, or the community. We need both.

The spirituality of a third act takes both hands, grasping the task into which we are called. We cultivate this chapter of ongoing maturity and wisdom by claiming a conversational engagement with the inner and the outer world. Out of that dialogue, much can happen.

What’s Next for Me?

As I begin this third act, I envision a tapas plate approach to retirement. That metaphor of a Spanish-style meal with small plates appeals to my yearning for variety. Here are a few:

Tapas Plate of Writing

I plan to continue writing Notebooks and plans for a new book. If everything falls into place this fall, I'll be writing to you from the road. In September, I'll begin a two-month bicycle tour of Europe and an accompanying series, "Bicycling with the Saints." Yes, it's a spin on the similar title work by Belden Lane, which focused on his backpacking ventures. As I ride along the terrain of such luminaries as Hildegaard of Bingen, Meister Eckhart, and the Plum Village Community of the late Zen Buddhist Thich Naht Hahn, I'll be typing away with reflections. (Hopefully not at the same time, for riding and typing are not good multitasking) This series could end up in another book…eventually.

Tapas Plate of Photography

As I previously described, I’m very much enjoying a return to photography. As a hobby, I enjoyed working as a professional photographer in the past. Now, I'll have the chance to practice photography "for the love of the game" rather than paying attention to accounting. One specific area of service I plan to offer is photography for non-profit organizations. Just like my spiritual direction & coaching practice, this will be on a sliding scale basis. While businesses often hire people to produce images for their websites and advertising, non-profits don't have the resources for this…now they will. I'm also just looking forward to photography for fun, as I've started the 350 photo-a-day Instagram feed, which features a photograph every day from my on-the-street image-making. More info on all this at www.jameshazelwoodphoto.com

Tapas Plate of Teaching

In addition to the opportunity to teach at Yale Divinity School and United Lutheran Seminary, I plan to create some online and in-person learning options. I’ll announce those later in 2025. But I’m most looking forward to teaching “Dreams in the Bible, Religion and Modern Life" in January at U.L.S. This is a chance for me to gather much of my research, studies at the Haden Institute, the Jung Platform for Coaching, the Jung Institute in Boston, and coursework at Salve Regina University.

Those are the three main plates I plan on exploring; each of them I’ll be tackling in small doses, leaving lots of time for hikes in the woods, time with grandchildren, bicycling & swimming, cooking and eating great food, time with my wife, conversations with friends, etc. People may wonder, but how will you do all this and call it retirement?

Years ago, a distinguished grey-haired man named Dick Hutchins joined the congregation I served in Rhode Island. I learned this former scientist from the U.S. Department of Agriculture had recently moved to his family homestead in Quonachataug, Rhode Island. I said, "Oh, so you've retired." He looked at me intently, yet with his characteristic smile, responded, "No, not retired, I'm redirected." That conversation occurred 25 years ago, and today, I'm recalling it and claiming my next chapter. I'm not retired. I'm redirected to a new chapter, a third act.

I’m ready. Let’s go!

Until Next Time,

James Hazelwood is the author of three books on the intersection of everyday life and the spiritual. You can subscribe to these essays at www.jameshazelwood.substack.com