Rewrite the Script After 50: The Power of Purpose and Voice

Purpose is often misunderstood.

We tend to think of it as something large and dramatic, a calling, a mission statement, a bold declaration of what comes next. For many people in midlife and early retirement, that expectation alone can feel paralyzing. If purpose has to be big, public, or life-defining, what happens when all you feel ready for is one small step?

What I’ve learned is that purpose rarely arrives fully formed. More often, it begins quietly, with being present, being heard, and allowing yourself to want more than you currently have.

During my time on the board of a local charity, I moved from Director to Vice President. I would likely have become President as well, but the organization had a six-year limit on board membership. At first, that rule felt restrictive. Over time, I came to appreciate it. It kept new ideas flowing and ensured the charity stayed connected to the changing needs of the community rather than becoming comfortable or insular.

What surprised me most was how long it took to truly find my voice.

It was about a year and a half before I realized that people weren’t just being polite when I spoke, they were listening. I’ve never been shy, and I’ve never been afraid to share my thoughts. But this was different. I wasn’t just reacting or offering opinions. My vision of what could happen had expanded, and I began to work deliberately on ideas that mattered to me and to the organization.

Those were small steps. Conversations. Suggestions. Follow-through. But together, they created something larger, a growing sense of purpose about who I was becoming as I moved through the stages of retirement.

That sense of purpose didn’t replace my former work identity overnight. In fact, when people first retire, it’s very common and very comforting to cling to the past. I know people who, long after retirement, still visit their old workplace just to chat with former colleagues. There’s nothing wrong with staying connected to people you care about. The risk comes when that connection becomes the only place you feel relevant or valued.

If your sense of purpose lives entirely in the past, it leaves very little room for the future.

A new purpose gives you a reason to get up in the morning and face the day, not out of obligation, but out of interest and engagement. Purpose doesn’t mean staying busy for the sake of it. It means feeling that what you do, however modest, still matters to someone, including yourself.

Purpose also requires permission.

Permission to be visible again in a different way. Permission to speak, to contribute, to imagine. And perhaps most importantly, permission to want more, not more status or more pressure, but more meaning, more connection, more life.

As I said in the previous post, we can resist change, resign ourselves to it, or embrace it. Embracing change doesn’t mean chasing a new career or signing up for every opportunity that comes along. It means listening for what stirs your curiosity now, at this stage of life, and trusting that it’s worth paying attention to.

Moving forward often means finding a new mission, but missions don’t have to be permanent or grand. They can be seasonal. They can evolve. They can begin with something as simple as showing up, speaking up, and noticing where you feel most alive.

In the next post, I’ll talk about practical ways to start again, especially if you feel stuck. You don’t need to burn everything down to make a meaningful change. Sometimes, starting again means starting exactly where you are.