"Heaven is having a choice; hell is having to choose."  Morris Massey introduced me to that phrase over thirty years ago, in a talk about the baby boom generation. He pointed out that we had created the salad bar, and that was a big deal at the time.  Any trip through a grocery store, electronics outlet, or website shows us the extremes to which we have gone in generating a heaven of options.  I am still confounded by the hell of choosing only one.

Last week I wrote about the gift of unstructured time-the freedom to choose what to do, and when.  In retirement we may also be faced with choosing what to do, period.  So many books, so little time.  So many causes and needy people.  So many trips.  So many fitness goals.  So many projects around the house and yard.  The options are never exhausted, though they may exhaust us in the process.

Others seem to accomplish so much more than I do.  They travel all the time.  They build new homes, remodel, and landscape.  They care for their own young children, grandchildren, or elders; serve on boards; set up businesses; or all of those plus more.  How do they do it?

It has taken me a while to let go of that question.  It misses the point.  Their choices have nothing to do with mine. This is a time in life for outgrowing the urge to compare, and for pursuing the values that mean the most to each of us.  One of my deepest retirement values is to maintain a slower pace than I did while working. 

What is so great about slow?  Doesn't it just mean I am getting less of the retirement pie than those who are living faster?  I no longer see it that way.  With continual adjustment, I am honing a pace that serves my needs.  It seeks out mental and social stimulation, to a point.  It is physically active, within limits.  It volunteers and works and produces and serves, then stops to reflect.  The magic pace for me is fast enough to stay awake, but slow enough to breathe. Runners call it a "conversational pace." I want the beauty and wisdom I encounter to sink in, not whiz by. 

As I choose more often between reading and parties, gallery walks and evenings at home, taking a class and taking a nap, I am developing a rhythm of my own.  I spend less time shopping, surfing the web, and otherwise hanging out in the heaven of infinite options. I limit the hell of having to choose by scheduling a few events and goals, then letting life gently color in the white space on an empty calendar.

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What pace appeals to you?  Do you fill the calendar to overflowing, or do you leave time for a detour, a friendly chat, or taking pictures along the way?