Retirement Redux: Lessons Learned About the "Miracle of None" And Relevance On a Journey of Personal Discovery
Retirement is a journey, and I share a couple of the lessons learned along the way--some humorous, others not so much. Ultimately, you can always work to make tomorrow a better day.
—Courtesy ChatGPT September 30, 2025
It’s time to think of something other than controversy, so I decided to take a breather and reflect on the 5-year anniversary of my long journey of transition into retirement—with a nod to my recent declaration in late June of going for my version of retirement gold: “The Miracle of None.” (Link to blog “The Miracle of ‘None’ “ here)
It’s safe to say that just like many other folks, the journey has been interesting and certainly different than what I anticipated. It has been filled with ups and downs—some serious, others not so much—but in retrospect all instructive, opportunities to learn more about myself, who I am and who I would like to be.
My intention is not to write a tome, but to take a moment to offer some thoughts you may find of value, especially if you are heading to the cusp of taking your own journey future with your personal retirement.
1) It’s a journey, one step at a time, and it takes time as well. You are more likely to move forward at the speed of snail than the speed of a rocket into space.
I freely admit I didn’t anticipate retirement when it hit me. I was laid off as part of a RIF related to Covid.
Yes, I was older, but I didn’t view myself as finished. But I discovered it wasn’t up to me whether I was finished but it quickly became apparent the rest of the world thought age was a key negative factor for continued regular employment.
Sometimes you have lemons and have to make lemonade, and that’s what I did: Advisory roles for several companies, a board seat on a non-profit, eventually a couple of part-time gigs for start-up companies that proved both interesting and instructive if not overwhelmingly lucrative.
You need to be adaptable if you are going to succeed in retirement. You can’t be fatalistic, and must always be willing to adapt to the world as you find it, not necessarily as you would like it to be.
2) It’s a bit more difficult for folks if you were very involved/committed/engaged in your work before you retired.
That was a tough lesson to learn: One day you are fully engaged, feeling valuable.
Next day: Who?
Oh, there are folks around you who remember you, but it isn’t quite the same as “being there.”
I have seen the same theme show up in a number of advice articles: Be prepared to lose some of that feeling of importance, of stature, of usefulness. It isn’t easy, but it does work out if you keep your head on straight and focus on your future. And it helps if you realize it’s your future, not the future of some more encompassing, large organization.
Which brings me to what was perhaps the most important lesson of this journey:
3) Relevance is within you, not elsewhere.
I have written about the importance of a personal sense of relevance, and what it means as a measure of one’s sense of self-worth. (Link here)
Many of you reading this blog are folks who have been incredibly relevant at what you do in your organizations. Your work gives you meaning and value. You feel useful, especially if you work at a large non-profit, like I did, focused on helping a nation better understand cancer, cancer research, cancer care, and public health.
The relationships you develop within and on behalf of the organization give you an identity, a purpose, a reason for showing up every morning to face another day, more problems, maybe a crisis, or perhaps a rewarding accomplishment.
When you retire, that sense of purpose and belonging goes away with your work. Your relevance has been buoyed by the relationship with your organization, and now that is no longer there. The organization’s identity has become your identity. Leave, and you feel a genuine sense of loss and purpose.
I found myself working hard to find other ways to become “relevant”, to find that reward, that personal satisfaction, that recognition that came along with my prior work. And as hard as I tried, I couldn’t replace it—at least not completely.
For certain, I did have other opportunities, but they weren’t quite the same.
One day I had an “Aha moment,” which I have shared elsewhere if you are interested (same source as the relevance blog above, link here). I suddenly realized that my relevance was now MY relevance, what I accomplish in my life’s journey, the lessons I have learned, my sense of decency to others, the values I stand for, the principles I espouse, the respect I offer to others in my life.
I was no longer peddling that bicycle for others. Now I was peddling the bike for me.
Once I took on that mantle of personal relevance I felt a huge sense of relief, a sense that my life was important, that I didn’t have to rely on the reputation of others. It was now all about me, in a very positive sense of those words.
And when I made that shift, a whole new world opened up. I no longer felt that I had to pursue other opportunities. Instead, I could focus on what I wanted, on my family, on my goals, needs and desires.
It was a huge lesson, and a huge relief.
4) You can survive.
There are a lot of lessons to learn about retirement, not the least of which is that you don’t have the income you used to have, and that means making adjustments.
Fortunately, my wife continues to work so at least that income hasn’t changed. But mine certainly did.
We are fortunate that I had made some wise investment decisions, so while we may have to do with less we are at least able to hold our own. But it isn’t so bad or difficult to survive on less. Actually, at times it is downright interesting what choices you make.
Not that we haven’t had to adjust, and not that there haven’t been curve balls: There are always financial curveballs in life. And not that things haven’t gotten more expensive, especially our homeowners and auto insurance.
But the good news is that if you plan reasonably well you can figure it out. We did figure it out, and we will continue to figure it out, and that will never change. But you don’t have the resources you used to have, and that takes some getting used to.
5) You can pick a passion, but beware: It can become as consuming as what you used to do, maybe even more so. Some of us are just built that way.
I always like the advice columns that tell you to prepare for retirement by figuring out what you want to do when you have the time to do it.
Another “Hahahaha!”
Maybe some of you have been lucky. Me? Not so much.
As I mentioned, I tried to reconstruct what I had lost—but that didn’t happen.
I am not a world traveler, never have been. I like to be quiet at home. That suits me just fine.
I do like to write, and for several years I wrote a daily journal that I thought one day may turn into a book. And, who knows, it may still happen. But that wasn’t the end of that story: I decided one day to take the plunge and write the blog, which you are reading right now.
Whether or not the blog is going to be a success remains uncertain. But I enjoy doing it—thoroughly! And in my primary area of interest which is healthcare and health policy there is certainly plenty to write about, especially knitting together some thoughts and observations that aren’t usually covered in the primary media reports.
I have also had the opportunity to share some of myself, just like I am doing right now. Surprisingly, those blogs have frequently touched a nerve among some readers—even more than the ones focused on health policy and healthcare.
But with passion and commitment comes new learning:
I can’t continue to provide content every day like I was doing the first couple of months. Too much else going on in life, and this is supposed to be a labor of love. So consistency of writing has been less than ideal. All I can do is the best I can do, so I have to be comfortable with that reality.
More unexpected was the amount of time it takes to write one blog: We are talking several hours, minimum. Sometimes three, sometimes six. It takes a commitment of time, no doubt about it. But I enjoy it, it gives me purpose, and hopefully others will find some value in it as well.
What I didn’t expect was the type of blog that got the best response:
I thought the political stuff would get reaction. Sometimes it does. However, what has been interesting is that it is the lifestyle pieces that get the most comment, including personal messages that you don’t see. And sometimes those are the most difficult to write, about personally challenging issues, messages to communities of folks who have shared similar journeys. It’s fun to talk about BBQ and squeezing butts, but it is also meaningful to write about more intense personal journeys of discovery.
As some of you have shared with me, those shared journeys are sometimes the most difficult and yet the most rewarding. And maybe one day I will write that “long form” story about our own personal journey to a place no one wants to go to, yet turned out to be the most uplifting experience in our lives. TBD.
6) You may discover new passions and abilities you never knew you had.
I have already shared my passion for writing, and how I express it. But there were others as well:
Perhaps the most meaningful was my journey into discovering spirituality.
I have been exposed to religion since I was born. I attended Sunday School, Hebrew school, advanced Jewish education. I attended synagogue fairly regularly.
But it wasn’t until very recently that I discovered spirituality, at a time of intense personal need. I met others who share that discovery, and not all the folks involved are Jewish. Spirituality is a universal teaching.
I have thought about God in ways different that I ever thought or considered before. I won’t bore you with my thoughts here, only to say it has been enlightening.
I spend time every Saturday morning on a Zoom meeting with Torah study, a time of reflection, thought, and focused learning. There are lessons and events in the Bible that I never knew before, and have me thinking about what those 40 years in the desert were all about and what the lessons learned mean for the lives we lead today.
I don’t care what your faith may be, only that you live by the principles that so many of our faiths share. Perhaps they are packaged differently, the traditions may be different, the practice of prayer may be different. But I am grateful for those of many faiths who have helped guide us in our journey of discovery, a journey that neither Sandra nor I ever anticipated.
Now for some lighter thoughts about this retirement journey:
—Courtesy ChatGPT September 30, 2025
7) Email and messages never go away. Never.
I am striving diligently to have an empty email box at the end of the day.
Hahahahahaha!
Nope, they just keep coming and coming and coming and coming. They never stop. They always have an action, a need to do something, to read something you would like to read, to schedule something, to fill out a form, to worry about something in the neighborhood like a coyote or porch thieves.
You block them, you spam them, you tell them you don’t work there anymore. Nope, the email gremlins just keep coming and coming and coming. “Time suck” doesn’t begin to do justice to the impact email has on our lives. If it was only a worthwhile time suck.
8) Somehow there seem to be fewer hours in the day than before I retired.
I can’t figure it out, but I have learned I just can’t find enough hours in the day to get done what needs to be done. I try to prioritize, but that still leaves other stuff that is left undone. Rare is the day that I complete all the tasks I wanted to get done on that particular day.
You may look at retirement as a time to take your time. Well, maybe that works for you—but it hasn’t for me.
As noted, my dear wife continues to work. So that leaves me to pick up the brunt of the household stuff, like washing the dishes, loading/emptying the dishwasher, walking the doggies, making the bed, doing the wash.
Exercise is important to me, so I need to find time to do that as well. Then there is the writing, which I already mentioned takes hours out of the day.
I have tried all sorts of solutions: I make lists, I get up early in the morning, I have tried my best to avoid wasting time, I put limits on the time it takes for me to eat my meals during the day, I try to get enough sleep.
Whatever: there is always more to do than the time you have to do it.
By the way, there is a category I created on the list entitled, “What I want to do for me today.” Maybe sit by a fire, maybe read a book, maybe take a walk in the woods.
Haha on that one as well.
Then I keep thinking: Uh, Lenny, you are in control!!!! If you don’t take that walk, you have no one to blame but yourself.
How novel a thought…
9) I wanted to get to “None” on my schedule, meaning that I had complete control of my day, to do what I wanted to do. Uh, not happening…
You think you can get control of your schedule when you retire? Think again:
The lawn people need to come by and get to the irrigation system. The cleaners come to clean the house. The termite inspection for your annual plan must be done. The gutter people need to clean the gutters. You have classes you want to attend. You have friends you want to talk to. You still have some organizational meetings frequently scheduled for a couple of hours in the evening.
The list goes on and on and on.
I have tried to back off some of the stuff, but not always possible. I am still not in complete control of my schedule, and meeting the expectations of others can sometimes be a problem that I just have to live with.
I guess the bright side of this discussion is that I still have a life to live, things that need to be taken care of, and I should be grateful that I am alive and kicking and able to do them. But I still crave that time to sit by the fire and read a book when I want to.
Which brings me back to that Hamlet line I trot out occasionally:
“To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub!”
Unfortunately, he was talking about death while I am still focused on life. But to dream that one day I will just do what I want to do? I suspect at that moment I will look back and wish I had those appointments back on my schedule….
Which brings me to my final observation on this abbreviated list:
10) You can’t do everything everyone wants you to do, even things that you do for your health.
I am very fortunate: I think I am in pretty good health (although my medical list would suggest otherwise!!!).
I exercise daily. I want to exercise about an hour to an hour and a half a day. OK…..
My doctors tell me I need to do more strength exercises. Yup.
My dental hygienist is pleased that I floss my teeth twice a day and use a WaterPik. But that is not enough: She also wants me to brush my tongue. Brush my tongue???? Yup…got time to do that, too (not).
Or how about my hair person, who wants me to brush my hair ten minutes a day to stimulate hair growth? Hey, Lucy: I am grateful to still have hair to brush!!!! Nope, doing just fine the way we are.
There was an observation in medical practice that if we physicians spent the time needed to instruct our patients in healthy habits it would take up most of our day, leaving little time to take care of their more acute problems.
I can’t help thinking that staying healthy is pretty much the same:
If I did everything I was supposed to do to stay healthy, like dental hygiene, exercising, walking the dogs, etc. etc. it would take me 24 hours just to do that let alone much of anything else.
Nope, I am resolved to be do what I can do the best I can do it.
One of the blessings of getting older is that I am now more willing to tell those who care about me and my health that I won’t be doing what they want me to do: I won’t be brushing my tongue and I won’t be combing my hair. I will continue to do as much exercise as I can do, and will try to work in some strength stuff with resistance bands (a quick fix that probably doesn’t do what needs to be done), and I will walk the dogs as much as I can but not as much as they need.
So that is my quick recap of some lessons learned about retirement. There is so much more I could write, so much more I have learned. But this is at least a start.
Ultimately, there is one overall lesson that has been so important and has taken years to develop:
If you are thinking of taking the plunge, think wisely, be creative, be flexible, be optimistic, and always be willing to change course, to pull in a bit here, to push out a bit more over there.
As I write this today, I can tell you this has been the most satisfying time of my life. It has been a challenge, a need to be creative, to focus on priorities, to be responsible for me and my dear wife. A time of joy and sadness, of discovery and renewal.
We are not perfect, and we should always want to make tomorrow a better day than today. We are resilient, we can still learn, we can adjust, we can explore. Every day we are grateful that tomorrow we can write a new chapter, a better chapter, a more personally rewarding chapter.
And that, my friends, may be the most valuable lesson of all.
Love this, Len! I am nearing retirement and at the "drop dead age" as Bill Burr would call it, so I'm well aware that the exact timing of my retirement may not be entirely up to me. Reading your post was really insightful and welcomed. Thanks for sharing your personal experiences.
Also, I think I fall into that category of being most drawn to the personal posts vs the political. What we have in common, being vulnerable, sharing the authenticity and messiness of life we all live in is what we need more of. I'm so tired of and disillusioned by the news. Today I thought hey - it's October - so I googled Oktoberfest. Murder, suicide, an explosion, and a bomb threat in Munich shuts down Oktoberfest. <Sigh> We all need more love.