THIS ISN’T ANOTHER article about dreaming of retirement. Rather, it’s about dreaming in retirement.
I retired in 2017 after practicing criminal law in central Texas for almost four decades. It could be stressful at times. Before that, there were long years in college and law school.
College was relatively easygoing and enjoyable in the laid-back Austin of the 1970s, plus my major was sociology—a world apart from those in pre-med,

I LED A RETIREMENT seminar some years ago at a large manufacturing company. During the question-and-answer session that followed my presentation, a 60-something welder told the group he’d never retire. I asked why. His response: All his friends who’d retired before him were already dead, and he didn’t want to follow in their footsteps.
What he said resonated with me—because I knew someone who suffered a similar fate. Gino was a client back in my banking days.

THE FIRST TIME I GOT laid off, I was working in an insurance company’s training and development department. I’d been working in another department at the company when I saw a job posting for the position. The training department was looking for someone with subject matter expertise and experience in teaching.
At that point, I’d been working in property and casualty underwriting for 14 years. On top of that, I was a certified instructor for the Dale Carnegie course in public speaking.

FLAPJACKS IS LITERALLY on the other side of the tracks. The place is a throwback to the diners of the 1950s, when waitresses wore white aprons and took orders on little green pads, and where the red vinyl seats were cracked.
Charlie and me. I’ve been meeting Charlie at Flapjacks for weekly pancake breakfasts since I partially retired seven years ago. I spot him in our back booth and slide in across from him.

“WE CANNOT GET RICH doing dentistry, but we can get rich investing what we make in dentistry.” A nationally recognized lecturer on dental-practice management shared that piece of advice with me some 40 years ago.
I’d been out of dental school for a year when Dr. Dick Klein spoke at our local dental society’s annual meeting. The meeting’s organizer was a friend. He asked if my wife and I would take Klein and his wife out to dinner after his presentation.

CAN IT REALLY BE TWO years since I wrote about sending my twins off to college? One is a chemistry major, midway through her junior year. Meanwhile, for her twin sister, the artist, there have been big changes in her college trajectory.
My initial criteria for college selections included published statistics on cost, likelihood of admission, timely graduation and low rates of loan default. I took this last stat as a reasonable proxy for post-college success.

SIX YEARS AGO, I MADE a big life decision: I opted to scale back my work week with an eye to easing into early retirement.
I stayed in the same role, but reduced my hours and responsibilities, took a proportional pay cut, and bid farewell to potential future promotions. Essentially, my human capital shifted from a growth investment to an immediate-fixed annuity for the remainder of my part-time employment.
The change turned out to be far more fulfilling than I’d anticipated.

AFTER MY COLLEGE freshman year in engineering, I was hired for a part-time summer job by a civil engineering firm in my home town. The office was in an upscale building where a lot of respectable businesses were headquartered. The company had an impressive name. But after starting, I discovered it was just a one-man show. Mr. Jones was the owner. I became his sole employee.
Jones was probably in his mid-70s. He’d headed up his own company for decades.

MY WIFE RECENTLY GOT the chance to showcase her artistic talents at a cultural festival in Kansas City, Kansas. Lori’s craft is stained glass, and this was the first time she’d displayed her creations in public.
She began working with glass five years ago, shortly after she retired. We’ve discussed the possibility of turning her hobby into a business. She’s dreamed of selling her artwork so she could at least cover the cost of her craft.

A MAN DIED AND MET Saint Peter at the gates of heaven. “Saint Peter,” the man said, “I’ve been interested in military history for many years. Tell me, who was the greatest general of all times?”
“Oh, that’s simple. It’s the man right over there.”
The man looked where Peter was pointing and said, “You must be mistaken. I knew that man on earth, and he was just a common laborer.”
“That’s right,” Peter remarked,

MY FIRST ACT IN retirement was to turn off my phone at night. The second was to change my socks. More about the socks in a moment.
I’m an Episcopal priest. My decades of fulltime active service were spent leading several parishes. Upon retirement, turning off my phone at night meant I was no longer readying myself for emergencies and crises. My wife—and our children in the early years—would no longer have me leaving suddenly because something awful was unfolding in the lives of others.

WHEN I GRADUATED high school in the 1950s, I was age 17—and totally directionless. But living in New York City offered many opportunities, some of them right outside my front door.
At the time, the larger banks and insurance companies sent letters to recent graduates offering job interviews. I chose to accept an invitation from American Surety Co. I had no idea what a surety company did.
The venerable old company was housed in the second largest skyscraper in Manhattan—the American Surety Building at 100 Broadway in lower Manhattan,

I HAVE BEEN FIRED, downsized, restructured and laid off 10 times in my life. The first time was at age 16, when I worked for a McDonald’s-like hamburger joint, and the last time was shortly before I turned 70, when I was working for an insurance company as the manager of regulatory compliance.  
I can’t blame this on discrimination. I’m a white Christian male, five feet 10 inches tall, college educated, and of sound mind and body,

AFTER MY FIRST TWO years of studying electrical engineering at Virginia Tech, I got an internship at Frito-Lay working at its research headquarters in Irving, Texas, far from my New Jersey home. I was paid handsomely, treated well, had access to state-of-the-art computer equipment—and was miserable.
Some of that stemmed from spending the summer away from friends and family. But I was also having a career crisis even before my career began.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to work as an engineer for the next 40 years.

LAST MONTH MARKED two years since I leapt into the unknown and left the security of the corporate world to begin a second act as an independent writer. How’s it gone? Have things panned out as I hoped, financially and otherwise? 
Let’s be clear upfront that this move was never about making money. It was about taking a shot at my long-held dream of being an author. I’d put that dream on the back burner for three decades as I did what was necessary to support my family.