Art of Spuddling

 

I was delighted to learn a new word on Facebook a couple of weeks ago: spuddling. Although it sounds faintly derogatory, it describes my current lifestyle with remarkable accuracy. In fact, I sometimes think I could write a book on the subject.

After deciding to retire early in 2011, the course of my life changed irrevocably. At first, I was bored out of my mind. I went from juggling multiple jobs and studying constantly to a barely simmering existence. I did not appreciate this newfound freedom. Instead, I searched for activities that would make me appear busy to the outside world. Gradually, however, I turned inward and focused on simplifying my life and improving my health.

By the summer of 2013, my possessions had been reduced to a few suitcases of clothing, several boxes of books, and a handful of miscellaneous items. I had lost about 20 kilograms and was fitter than I had been in a decade. On the advice of a nutritionist, I cut down on processed foods and began cooking more often, despite having little natural talent for it. I quickly discovered that cooking, even when done imperfectly, is a surprisingly time-consuming activity.

In early 2015, while caring for my mother, I learned about brain plasticity and the complexities of stroke rehabilitation. Outside of caregiving, I studied theology and philosophy independently, content to learn without pursuing another degree. I taught myself philosophy with no timetable and no pressure. Around that time, I also began sewing my own clothes using my mother’s sewing machine, eventually realizing that I needed far less than I once thought to live comfortably and happily.

After returning from East Africa in April 2016, I was informed that my caregiving services were no longer required. With even more free time, I began volunteering at community events, particularly during the summer months, and adopted a regular walking routine. I briefly considered finding a companion, but my long-standing solitary habits made small talk and relationship demands difficult to sustain. I experimented with simple cooking and baking again, but none of these pursuits held my attention for long. I came to understand that my spuddling lifestyle did not blend easily with conventional socializing.

Since 2013, I have spent roughly half of each year living and traveling outside Canada. During these nomadic periods, my time is fully occupied with exploration and experiencing new environments. Documenting my travels has become my most enjoyable activity, and I have yet to grow weary of it. Although I once planned to leave social media behind in 2018—seeing it as a wasteful reminder of a competitive, dog-eat-dog society—I reactivated my Facebook account during a later journey through West Africa. I now use it intentionally, as a platform to educate and entertain, even though it brings me little personal joy.

In addition to volunteering, I have participated in research studies since 2016, sometimes receiving an honorarium, sometimes not. I choose studies that interest me and have real-world applications, avoiding long-term commitments. My only request is to be informed when the findings are published. While I am not part of academic circles, I make a conscious effort to stay informed about current research.

The COVID-19 pandemic temporarily eliminated the volunteering aspect of my spuddling lifestyle. During lockdowns, I returned to cooking and baking—this time with greater success, thanks to daily practice. I gravitated toward fusion dishes rather than traditional recipes, using food as another outlet for creativity. Around the same time, my interest in integrated solutions for climate change and renewable energy resurfaced. I repurposed and recycled discarded items from my neighborhood and learned to adapt my activities to better match my natural aptitudes.

Many of my friends continue working full-time well past the official retirement age, fearing boredom and a loss of purpose. My response to them is simple: I have been having the time of my life since retiring in 2011. I am free to satisfy my curiosity, to help others, to live mindfully, and to pursue knowledge without urgency or obligation. I even have time to write, reflect, and share my thoughts creatively. In learning how to live without rigid structure, I have mastered—at last—the art of spuddling.