Don’t underestimate the time you will spend in the “land between.” “What is that?” you ask. Just like it sounds, it is the place between the old you and the new you. It is a time of transition from the persona you were in your main career to the new person you are becoming in your encore. It is also about the transition between your life routines when you were younger to your new life situation as you age. It is about work, children, houses, friends, finances, and a host of things that change as we age. Every transition has a land between.
We are not saying you have to spend forty years there, like the children of Israel did, wandering in the desert between Egypt and the Promised Land. But there is a journey that is real and takes time. The time it takes depends on a lot of factors: your personality, your finances, your wiring, your health and mental attitude, your goals for the future, and your family situation. Each one of us is unique, so no two journeys are alike. We all have different options as we age, and those options create choices that then create transitions.
Let’s call the main act of your career “point A.” That is where you were camped out for many years. You raised your family there. You built a stable set of friends and life in your community and church. You probably stayed put in one place. Now things are changing and you have to figure out your “point B.” We call that your encore. There is a real emotional journey for most people to get from point A to point B.
I, Hans, have a dear friend who was the chairman of the board at my former employer during his midseventies. He was still working full-time at his church. He was having the time of his life at age seventy-five. He retired from a career in the Target Corporation in his early sixties and then began a new career as a business administrator in his local church. And he had actually been in another career before Target. He told me he had formally retired twice, only to still be working full-time and loving every minute of it. This is another example of a rolling retirement. Today’s reality is that many people will move beyond point B to C to D and maybe even to E.
We all know those days are gone when you grow up, get an education, and spend your career with one company. The days of that simple escalator ride are long over. Even if you are a professional like a doctor or lawyer, you’re still going to move from place to place. And every time that move occurs there is transition. We have a good friend, an orthopedic surgeon, who recently experienced a big change in his practice when he realized he needed to sell it to make room for all the changes happening to government involvement in healthcare. He is still practicing medicine, but the stability of lifetime careers in one medical practice or law firm is over.
It takes time to process the change from A to B or B to C, though the change event itself might happen instantly. In the case of my friend Don, who was shown the door in a matter of days after a twenty-seven-year career with his company, it took him about a year in the land between to sort that all out in his heart. In other cases, like Julie Clark, whom we met in chapter 12, her transition time was almost instantaneous because her side company immediately became her new plan B. We all know friends who were abruptly shown the door after a lifelong career with one company. Their plan A was over in an instant, but it takes time to discover the ramifications, let alone discover what plan B will become. And for many of us there will also be a C and then a D as we have a rolling retirement picture.
In this period of our life stage development, we have to say goodbye to our old life role and identify and accept the new. This is an ongoing process that has actually been going on our whole life. There is no way to avoid several “land between” experiences. The quest is to move forward to the new and not get stuck in the “neutral zone”—another term for the land between. And we are not just talking about careers and jobs. There are also the transitions of many other things such as finances, friends, children, parents, marriage, health, and where we will live.
We first brought up this topic of transition in chapter 3, but it bears repeating here as we go deeper. The principles of transition can best be learned from William Bridges in his defining book Transitions. He describes three phases during transition.1
- Endings. The first phase of transition. You can’t start a new beginning until you end your previous situation. This is the part where we leave and say goodbye to what used to be.
- The Neutral Zone. The second phase of transition (also known as the land between). Once you have declared your ending you need to take some time, sit back, think, and process what it is that you are no longer a part of or what new situation you are embarking on. It may be the loss of a loved one, a job, your city and home where you lived for a long time, or your spouse. Most moms (and dads too) feel the loss of their children as the nest becomes empty as a huge transition that throws them into a prolonged neutral zone. There are a myriad of transitions that we go through and we need to actually process what it is we are transitioning from and to.
- The New Beginning. The third phase of the transition. You can’t start a new beginning until you have completed the ending and processed getting out of the neutral zone. If you start the new beginning anywhere else it short-circuits the process. Life in the elderlescence stage is filled with many new beginnings.
Let’s talk some more about this neutral zone or land between. Perhaps you are stuck there. Many people do get there and have a hard time moving forward to find those new beginnings. The neutral zone can last from a few months to several years.
Here is a dramatic story of a successful college president whose land between lasted thirteen years, which is unusually long. Everyone was stunned when Robertson McQuilkin stepped down from the presidency of Columbia International University in South Carolina to serve his ailing wife, who was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. Many would say he was in the prime of his leadership at the college. He reflected that after forty years of marriage, and his wife, Muriel, taking care of him, “I don’t have to take care of her now, I get to.” And so he laid aside his leadership role to care for Muriel. Both publicly and privately he said, with great joy, “She served me all these years and now is my time to serve her.” He did it with great joy. He cared for her full-time for thirteen years, until her death in 2003. Then he embarked on a new career of speaking, mentoring, and writing, and eventually married a delightful woman named Debbie. His land between was a prolonged journey, and his new beginning was amazing to witness.
The land between for Robertson lasted thirteen years. How can a person who had such a fulfilling career lay it aside to become a full-time caregiver? I, Hans, remember going to their little house on Monticello Road in Columbia, South Carolina, and visiting with him and Muriel. She was bedridden and he would carefully wash her, clothe her, feed her, and read to her as he so lovingly cared for her every need. I don’t think he ever anticipated that one of the greatest teachings from his life would come from this example to all of us husbands “to love our wives in sickness and in health.” Robertson McQuilkin is a man who lives by vows.2
My father-in-law, Mark Bubeck, went through a similar experience. He was in his midseventies and already retired from being a pastor when he became the full-time caregiver to my mother-in-law, Anita. I remember being blown away when he said to me and Donna, “This is the greatest and most fulfilling ministry that God has ever called me to.”
Many of us who are married will probably face the inevitable challenge of caring for our ailing spouse. We are belaboring this point to call attention to a changing reality that many of us might just face. This caregiving role might very well have to become a part of our encore.
There is a real neutral zone. Don’t be afraid of it. Take time to process your transition. If you’re not there yet, we are warning you to get ready for it. The worst thing to do is to live in denial. The best thing to do is to process the neutral zone with people close to you. I, Hans, am an introvert and love to process things internally. But I had to learn in my own transition to process my journey with Donna, close friends, and the TAG team we created.
So first of all, recognize there is a land between. Second, take the time to process the transition deeply in your mind and in your heart and with those close to you. Third—and this is so critical—you have to find the resolve to move on to your encore. If you are hesitant, you can go to that dark place and stay in your bathrobe. It’s not a happy place and we don’t wish it on anyone.
Getting Out of the Neutral Zone
Do you recall, when you were a kid, climbing up that long ladder to the high dive and slowing walking out to the edge and looking down? As a boy I was terrified. I am afraid of heights and it took a lot of courage for me to climb up there, and much more courage to jump off! I eventually became very good at diving, once I learned that there was no danger and that I would not die when I hit the water.
As I, Hans, went through my major career transition, I thought of this analogy of a diving board. A high dive, to be sure. When I decided to retire early and reinvent myself, I was jumping off the high dive into the great unknown.
When I sensed a strong urging in my heart of hearts that I needed to leave my old career behind and start a new beginning, I was afraid to take the plunge. I was stuck on the diving board for a long time. I would go to the edge and look down into the great unknown and back away. I was afraid to take the step. I would walk back and forth and back and forth. I would consider climbing back down the ladder. This went on for several years! Why was I afraid? It was that same strong force that keeps so many people stuck—fear. I was deathly afraid of the unknown. I grew unfulfilled and bored with a job I once loved, but was too comfortable with the status quo to make a change. Many people prefer the certainty of their misery to the misery of uncertainty. That was me. I was stuck in the neutral zone and did not know it, because in my heart I had already emotionally left my former career.
Well, I finally jumped. And the results were a great new beginning. I have never once regretted jumping. What I do regret is that I took so long to jump . . . and wasted some good years in the neutral zone that I could have spent in my sweet spot of passion. Resolve to jump when you know in your heart of hearts that you should.
We have two acquaintances who are currently in this very place of being stuck on the board and afraid to jump. One is a woman in a high-tech job, and she hates both the job and the company’s toxic culture. There is a new opportunity staring her in the face but she will not act, out of fear. Then there is an older man who has spent his career in financial services. He has plenty of money to retire and he knows he needs to leave the company. He is bored and no longer engaged, and his co-workers would really like to see him retire. But he too is paralyzed with fear. Some have defined f-e-a-r as “false expectations appearing real.”
We are the lifeguards on the side of the pool watching you on the high dive, shouting, “Jump! It is safe down here and you will love it!” What does it take to jump? One word: resolve. Scottish explorer W. H. Murray can teach us a thing or two about resolve. In his mountain climbing expeditions, he discovered the route by which Mount Everest was eventually ascended in 1953. Murray’s early life was characterized by pioneering climbing in Scotland in the 1930s, then combat against Rommel’s forces during World War II in North Africa and three years in Nazi prison camps before the war finally ended. In his later years he was known as a relentless adventurer. Here is the life lesson from Murray about resolve, which speaks to the heart of those of us who get paralyzed by fear and fail to act. His language is a bit antiquated, but bear with us to get the meat out of what he said so many decades ago:
This may sound too simple, but is great in consequence. Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets:
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!3
Get going. Begin that dream. When Murray says that “the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too,” he’s talking about jumping off the high dive. Be bold and providence will move to help you.
In case you’re stuck in the neutral zone, let us give you some practical tips about how to move forward into your encore and get moving. For starters, jump off the board. You won’t die. We promise. It doesn’t do you any good to wander forever in the wilderness when there is a beautiful promised land that you can claim.
I have a great friend, Tom, who was able to retire financially in his early forties. He told me about going into the bathrobe stage of his life. He woke up late every morning and never got out of his bathrobe. He told me that the idea of retiring early is totally bogus. “That was the most miserable time of my life,” he said. “I was born to be productive. I wanted to do more. I had to find something. I wandered in that wilderness for a long time before I finally decided I had to go back to work.” And he proceeded to launch the encore he is now enjoying.
Action Is the Key
In the final two chapters of our book we will help you come up with an actual, concrete plan if you are not yet living your encore and need to get ready. If you are not yet there, jump right in and get started. Get committed to action. Then providence will kick in. For some of us, it will entail going back to work at a job we love. For others of us, our hobbies will become our encore career.
If you were pushed off the diving board, then process your grief about what happened to you. If you were forced out or let go before you wanted to leave, you will need to deal with your loss and the grief you might not even know you are bearing. Consider going through The Grief Recovery Handbook by John W. James and Russell Friedman. Get up every day, shower, shave (guys), and get dressed. Take your Wi-Fi-enabled device and go to the library or coffee shop and start looking for something you can do. Action is essential to move beyond fear and depression, out of the land between and into new beginnings.