When I try to picture my future retirement life, I’m always challenged. Unlike some, I don’t have visions of endless days on the beach, constant travel, or sitting around doing zilch.
In business, having a vision has always been a valuable starting point for crafting a solid plan. But this is different. I’m not driven by a bold new idea or an innovative software product. This is new ground. What is my purpose in retirement? How do I start shaping a plan when I’m not even sure what tools I have—or what I’m trying to shape?
Structure Without the Straitjacket
As I mentioned in a previous blog, I’m a relatively disciplined (some might say OCD) kind of guy. In these last few semi-retired years, I’ve found that without structure, time just flies by—often without much satisfaction or joy. I think it’s a myth to see retirement purely as freedom, autonomy, and doing whatever you please. That may not hold true, in my view, unless some structured plan in place.
If I lay out 3 rows of 5 choccie-coated peanuts (my favourites) and look at them as a metaphor for my longevity—well, you can imagine how quickly those 15 peanuts disappear. It’s scary.
I lean toward seeing the future in 5-year blocks—it makes sense to me that each phase should come with its own habits, supported by a structured set of goals. No doubt, like any good plans, they will change long before the concrete sets. And that is okay—this phase is about going with the flow and enjoying the freedom.
So, what do I throw into my retirement plan? What is it I want to accomplish or experience in this next phase of life?
Living well, of course, will require factoring in money. Not that money makes us happy, but it certainly influences the kind of life we can afford. One couple might enjoy a full month of travel in Europe, while another may only manage a few days. The point is: our future needs to be managed within the boundaries of our retirement financial plan (the subject of my next blog).
What’s important for me is understanding which experiences will truly enrich my life—and that of my spouse and family. When I think about this, the following (disclosure: not necessarily all original thoughts) come to mind:
Developing lasting social relationships – A lot of research suggests this is key to happiness in retirement (including maintaining those connections at our “home-away-from-home” in KZN).
Inculcating habits that support physical and mental health – No convincing needed here. I’ll keep squashing for as long as my body allows.
Giving back to the community – The question is how. Do I have the patience for something like a soup kitchen? Or can I better use my tech experience to support friends and others in need?
Travel – Yes, definitely. But travel is episodic; it’s the in-between days that need attention too.
Daily structure – For me, this means having projects that challenge me. These are mostly intellectual in nature—I’ve never been great with my hands.
Work – For now, semi-retirement still means devoting four mornings a week to my business (as mentioned in my introductory blog post).
What comes next?
At some point, I’ll shift away from this semi-retired work mode. But what will replace it?
Right now, my work still offers a valuable vehicle—it gives me purpose and a platform to explore ideas that interest me, like artificial intelligence and what it might mean for our children and grandchildren. What kind of future are they heading into in this rapidly evolving AI world?
Without this “work vehicle,” it may be more difficult to stay engaged with these topics. The structure and platform that work provides—however part-time—make it easier to stay curious, connected, and contributing.
Leave a Reply