FREE NEWSLETTER
I LOVE TO PLAN. My wife, Sharon, often catches me nestled in my chair, gazing out a window at a distant object as my mind wanders even farther afield. My musings become scribbles on a scrap of paper, destined for discussion with Sharon at length over coffee and long walks. Eventually, we hammer out the settled strategies we think will best bring us happiness in adventures ranging from our next hike to the next few decades of life.
Of course, I know our intended track, or even the final destination, may change over time. I’m just a little boat on a big sea, blown about by winds and carried along by deep currents that may push me far off my charted course. Still, though it may be somewhat of an illusion, I cling to the comfort of control.
Smooth sailing. And for most of 2025, life was comfortable. In April, I shifted to part-time work as a physical therapist. I termed my new lifestyle “semi-retirement”. My reduced salary, added to Sharon’s contribution from a few hours’ work each month, still gave us enough income from our jobs to cover expenses, with leftovers for a little investing and so forth. Along with that, we gained enough new-found, free time to pursue a bit more fun while catching up on projects around the house.
As an added bonus, I expected delaying full retirement a couple of years might lead to more happiness in the decades ahead. How so? Because my post-retirement plan was still a work-in-progress.
“I studied and planned for two years before I retired,” Mike told me at a large family gathering. In his mid-70s, his excitement was evident as he recounted his active lifestyle. At home, his schedule includes participation in our state’s Master Gardener program and regular trips to the gym. Abroad, he organizes groups to walk the Camino de Santiago in Spain.
I had a yen for a fulfilling retirement like Mike’s. My roster of reasons to jump out of bed each morning might have a different twist or two, but I wanted the same zest for living. My unique recipe for retirement happiness still needed time to cook, however.
Oh, I knew I had plenty to keep my hands active. Even so, I wasn’t yet convinced I could substitute the mental stimulation provided by my patients and colleagues. According to a decades-long study from Harvard University, some folks discover that work supplies satisfaction not found elsewhere. I have a nagging suspicion I’m one of those restless souls, and I dreaded the thought of finding myself adrift, with little sense of purpose beyond indulging my own selfish needs.
And let’s face it: I still get a thrill from watching my money grow. Earning an income delays the need to plunge my fingers into my pile of savings to pay the grocery bill. All told, I figured my best move was to stay put until a clear exit appeared.
Unexpected storm. Meanwhile, my employer was moving in its own interest. In December, I learned that with the new year came new management for our outpatient physical therapy clinics. Our hospital system opted to outsource operations with the hope of securing guaranteed revenue. After the revamping, my boss would keep some new iteration of her job, but the outpatient clinics would report to the new administration, rather than her.
The news was a blow to my ordered life. No longer was I sailing through calm waters toward the sunset of my choosing. Instead, I faced the probability of turbulence as our clinic transitioned to the new system. And we were already struggling to implement a comprehensive computer software replacement that would take many more months to fashion into a serviceable tool.
I sensed danger ahead. Or, at the very least, a year or two of starts, sputters and stops before the clinic machine was humming again. I decided to bail, and on February 18th clocked my last day with my former employer, four days after Sharon. It turns out my radar was right. The details are dirty, but the gist is the transition is stalled and leadership of the affected clinics in limbo.
New direction. On the face of the situation, it seems my “clear exit” did indeed appear, and that I acted with autonomy to choose the course of my life. After all, I had exercised the option of jumping out of a job headed south and into the retirement I had dreamed of for decades. On top of that, I landed in a new, part-time job with Miranda, an old friend.
Back in December, Miranda called to ask if I could help cover patients in her clinic while she was out on extended leave. I wasn’t seeking more work, but she needed help. I couldn’t refuse. So, starting with one half-day per week in January, I’m now up to two or three half-days. Miranda’s made it clear I’m welcome to work more, but I’m satisfied for now. And the atmosphere in the clinic is great. It’s staffed by easy-going folks who are serious about patient care.
Still, it’s hard to shake the sense I’ve been scrambling to right myself after getting shoved off balance. During the last few weeks with my former employer, I had the feeling I was getting pushed out of a satisfying job before I was ready to leave. My usual optimism suffered, as did my sleep habits and typical interests, like gardening and writing. Why?
Perhaps the answer is the sudden, unplanned departure from my job. Research indicates forced retirement can lead to negative feelings about health and to depression. I have to admit I found my new temperament described in the pages of a research paper.
Other studies on job loss, found here, here and here, examine and compare the emotions experienced by losing a job to that of other types of loss, such as grief after the death of a loved one. Considered in this light, the Kubler-Ross model of the five stages of grief might help someone–like me–understand and deal with the psychological aftermath of job loss.
Peering ahead. Back to my reality, I know I’m painting a grim picture of a life that’s actually very blessed. Others have experienced far worse with fewer complaints. My perceived suffering pales beside that of a person who’s lost a loved one, or an income needed for survival. Also, as I get used to the shift in my lifestyle, I’m beginning to find my groove again.
Last spring, I started the season thinking I was at life’s helm, confident I could steer in any direction and choose my pace. I was thankful, but a little smug as I laid plans for my vision of retirement. One year later, I’m still planning and still thankful–but a bit more humble.
Ed is a semi-retired physical therapist who lives and works in a small community near Atlanta. When he’s not spending time with his church, family or friends, you may find him tending his garden and wondering if he will ever fully retire. Check out Ed’s earlier articles.
I really enjoyed this article.
As my wife is getting pushed to retire from a job she loves and it excellent at, I worry about the psychological impacts.
This article also hit home https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC7607397/ as this happened to me when I lost a job in the first decade of the century. How can we prepare for the inevitable (loss of the job) to avoid the inevitable (a negative reaction)?
You also raise important issues about new management and software (dashboards) taking hold across most of healthcare.
Thank you for your comment. I was surprised by my reaction to the news and its aftermath. I tend to think that I’m prepared to handle the surprises that inevitably come, as you say. But this one got to me. It was helpful to eventually understand that I was having a grief reaction, and to think through the stages. It might have helped to think of that earlier in the process. I hope your wife fares well with her situation.
Ed, I’m so very glad to hear you you are getting your groove back. Many are the plans of a man’s heart, but the Lord directs his steps. I’m thankful that you are willing to share these thoughts. Those of us who are a little behind you in such transactions can benefit from your words.
Thanks, Jason. You know I appreciate your words. The wisest folks recognize that many aspects of life are beyond our control. Some call it luck, others providence. I am so thankful for that direction.
Thanks Ed,
Yes, talking with your partner in life is a worthwhile endeavor. A pastor made the point to the congregation that when two people, or a family focus on a project, he gave the example of going camping, it serves to bring closeness to the people.
Now, having alignment to the same goals in the adventure has to be possible though. Good Work!
For several years, Sharon and I worked side-by-side in the same clinic. I was surprised by the number of people who asked, “How can you spend so much time together?” We loved it! And today, spending time together is still a priority.
During our busiest years, we didn’t do a great job of carving out couple’s time. We are trying to remedy that bad habit by planning for our time together to be the core of our schedule, Around that, we build the rest of our day, week and so forth–to the extent we can.
Always good to plan, but as always life has curveballs. Glad yours worked out. For me, I never had a set date for retirement. I just lucked out, as my work could be accomplished from anywhere, and that treated me well, no matter if I was in Rome, Italy, or on a Cruise. All I needed since 1994 was a Wi-Fi connection. Overall very fortunate, so I worked until I was 78, because I eased into to retirement, working less than an hour a day over the last 4 years, and yes the earnings during the last 10 years or so, was not what mattered, it was the friends I developed over the years. I was very fortunate over my last 20 years before official retirement. Now I help people in the 80’s and 90’s with all their questions, how to keep there computers, iPads, smartphones, and any devices operating, since there are a million questions. Our Independent Living community is about 350 interesting and wonderful people.
You bring up a potentially big problem as we move to total dependence on device-literacy. My 98-year-old mother-in-law needs her smart phone and computer for communication (her hearing aids are smart-phone dependent) but she needs regular help to rescue her from some snag she has created without realizing it. Every community needs a person filling your role!
Ed, I enjoyed reading about your journey into retirement, with all its unexpected twists and turns. Like you, I’m always planning and doing my best to maintain control, and I don’t respond well when that’s all upended.
I’m trying to become a bit more flexible and adaptable, but it’s not an easy task for our personality type!
Thanks, Andrew. I, too, am trying to change, to be more flexible. But it’s a conscious effort, rather than a reflex. Maybe we can “fake it until we make it?” Stepping back to gain perspective helps. After all, we are very blessed to have the choice to retire.
Sometimes the value of planning isn’t the resulting plan, but the actual planning activity itself. So lay it all out as best you can, even write it up if you need to, and then be prepared to crumple it up and toss it in the bin, secure in the knowledge that you’ve thought through as much as possible all of the if/then’s and contingencies that you can reasonably anticipate based on where you are now. That’s the good work. Of course it will change – no one can predict the future.
So true. Thoughtful planning helps us work through the possible outcomes ahead of time. It’s nice when a sudden change can be handled adroitly because we’ve already thought of problems that might arise. And then there are the surprises…
I retired from practicing neurology nearly 8 years ago. I was often asked “Do you miss working?” And my honest reply is “I miss the patients and staff, but not the paperwork”.
I agree with the Harvard study you referenced. And when I said “people”, I do not mean only my favorite coworkers or patients; I mean all of them, or nearly all. The interactions and connections with a variety of people can be challenging but also rewarding. So I could not agree more with the authors that cultivating and preserving relationships and friendships is vital, for all of us, but especially for those who may end up feeling cut off or excluded once retired.
Planning is a valuable skill. Learning how to modify or replace a plan when life happens is even better. Thanks for a great post, Edmund.
Thank you for your kind words. I know that your practice presented you with challenging people, and people with big challenges. But, as you say, that kind of work can be very rewarding. I’m not ready to leave, yet.
Edmund, my tax practice was very much like a part time job. I worked that business until I was 70, it was very fulfilling for me. Although I didn’t have everything planned out like your friend did, we have been kept busy by things like building a house, dealing with Chrissy’s broken arm, and my prostatectomy. I think someone already mentioned God’s laughing at our plans.
Still, retirement is hard work, which is maybe the reason I now do taxes for AARP. Who says retirees never get a day off? So enjoy helping Miranda today; when full time retirement comes calling, you will be ready.
Thank you for those thoughts, Dan. Plans are so vulnerable to outside unknowns, or even something inside us that has yet to surface. But, Jonathan used to comment that planning can be fun and interesting, and costs nothing.
I don’t know if my retirement plans will ever be truly settled–until I truly no longer have control over them–but I keep chipping away at the possibility.
Thank you for this timely and thought provoking post. There is a lot to ponder in your experience, but the line that really struck me was your desire to “cling to comfort of control”. The older, and presumably wiser, that I get, the more I realize that the ability to feel in control, whether real or perceived, is a fundamental human need and driver of human behavior. The comfort that comes from believing that through our words and actions that we have the ability to determine the outcome of our lives (and those of our loved ones) can be both empowering as well as burdensome. For example, my wife recently reminded me that I will never be truly happy until I stop thinking that I can control the outcomes for our adult children. As I have shared in previous posts, I am actively working on accepting that I have little to no control over their decisions and instead trying to enjoy the present and appreciate the blessings that I have. Giving them money with “no strings attached” will no doubt be a true test of the progress I am making.
Another timely point for me is that the part time role that you had the good fortune to line up prior to exiting your primary job served as a sort of soft landing and gave you the ability (and courage?) to get out of a suboptimal situation. I think this is a good strategy and one that I need to pursue.
Best of luck continuing to “right the ship” in your semi-retirement, but honestly it feels like you are well on your way to finding firm ground.
Thanks for the well-wishes! And I wish you well on your quest to accept your children’s decisions. A friend once told my wife that parenting adult children was one of life’s hardest tasks.
This will help others in the same boat, Ed. Thanks. I am reminded of the saying that we make plans and God laughs. I am glad you had a soft place to land with Miranda’s clinic. Chris
Thanks, Chris. I really have found a new home–just need to settle in.
Edmond, really enjoyed the article. I was very much the opposite — I couldn’t wait to escape the pressures of business ownership and dive headfirst into retirement. That said, your point about losing a sense of purpose genuinely resonates with me.
Over the past year, almost entirely by accident, I’ve found myself helping run one pickleball club, creating and running a second, and helping manage a tennis club — none of it planned, none of it intentional. Looking back, I think having this “work” alongside my more personal pursuits has actually made my retirement richer for it.
Thanks, Mark. I definitely have a yearning for some aspects of retirement, and I suspect something useful will gravitate toward me as well. But it’s hard to leave work that feels meaningful for an unknown schedule.