With Every End Comes a New Beginning

“What’s it like…retirement? Do you get bored?” I asked a few retirees as I thought about taking this step. Most were excited about not having to work anymore. I worked for 54 years in a career that I was passionate about – coaching. It would be difficult for me to walk away from my passion. Still, I knew deep down that retirement was coming soon and was consistently asking, “Now what?”

Retirement felt like a blank slate of unknowns. How do I find purpose in my day? I found myself wondering if purpose was something I’d have to invent, rather than discover, now that the scaffolding of employment was gone. I certainly could clean my house, take care of my gardens, be available to my grandkids, but I knew myself enough to know I need and want more. I started making lists—things I’d always wanted to try but never found the time for. Photography, drawing, volunteering, learning how to eat better, maybe even signing up for some classes. The possibilities both thrilled and intimidated me. Where to start?

But as the days passed, something unexpected happened. Small moments began to take on new meaning. I caught myself lingering over my morning coffee, enjoying the sunlight streaming through the window, listening to the world wake up outside. I realized that purpose might not be a grand, all-consuming thing. It could be found in the gentle rhythm of daily life, in moments of connection, creativity, and curiosity. Retirement, I began to see, wasn’t an end, but the start of a new chapter—one that I could write in any way I chose.

I signed up for a community art class, my hands tentative but eager as I drew shapes across blank paper. Truth be told, I loathe the discomfort of being a beginner. I want to go from 0 to Mastery in ten easy steps. I sat in the discomfort of being a beginner in art, and with each new skill, I was gently reminded that growth doesn’t retire with a career; it continues, taking new forms as we do.

There are days, of course, when uncertainty returns and the old questions echo—am I doing enough, am I enough? But more often, I recognize that meaning is stitched together from these fragments of experience. Purpose, it turns out, is not a destination or a singular achievement; it’s a tapestry woven from curiosity, kindness, and the courage to greet the unfamiliar with an open heart. As I step forward, I do so with a sense of gentle anticipation, knowing that this chapter is wholly my own, shaped by the slow, deliberate act of choosing each day anew.