Rewrite the Script After 50: Practical Ways to Start Again

If you feel stuck, you’re not failing. You’re pausing.

That distinction matters, especially after retirement or during the years leading up to it. There’s a lot of quiet pressure to “figure it out,” to replace one full life with another just as full, just as productive, just as impressive. When that doesn’t happen quickly, people assume they’re doing something wrong.

I’ve been retired for twenty-five years, and I still remember how hard it was to recognize that I was, in fact, retired.

Like many people, I eased my way out rather than stepping cleanly away. I talked in an earlier post about people who return to their old workplaces just to visit. I was one of them. I also continued working part-time for a while, telling myself, and others, that I was “transitioning to retirement.” That phrase gave me comfort. It created space between who I had been and who I wasn’t quite ready to become.

Looking back, I can see that what I was really doing was giving myself time.

After my term on the charity board ended, I didn’t rush to replace it with something equally demanding. Instead, I took on different responsibilities. I gave workshops on health and wellness. I created a program to train others to deliver those workshops. I started my blog. None of these things were dramatic reinventions. They were small, intentional steps that allowed me to stay engaged without locking myself into another version of full-time work.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, I began to slow down the amount of paid work I was doing.

At the same time, my wife and I started taking extended trips to visit family. We checked off a few long-held bucket list items. Our days and weeks began to feel different, less rushed, more open. What I didn’t notice at the time was that I was slowly moving away from who I had been as a worker and toward who I was becoming as a retiree.

That shift didn’t happen in big leaps. It happened in small steps.

This is why I’m wary when people talk about retirement, or midlife change, as something that requires burning everything down and starting over. For most of us, that approach is not only unrealistic but also unnecessary. Meaningful change is far more likely to stick when it grows out of where you already are.

If you’re feeling stuck, start by paying attention to what you’re already doing that feels even slightly right. What conversations leave you energized rather than drained? What activities make time pass more easily? What responsibilities feel chosen rather than imposed?

You don’t need to commit to anything permanently. Think in terms of experiments, not decisions. Try something for a season. Say yes with an exit plan. Let curiosity, not obligation, guide your next step.

Starting again doesn’t mean abandoning your past. It means allowing it to evolve.

The practical work of this stage of life is gentle work. It involves loosening old routines, testing new ones, and trusting that clarity will come through movement, not before it. Small steps taken consistently create momentum. Momentum creates confidence. Confidence opens doors you didn’t know you were ready to walk through.

In the final post of this series, I’ll talk about creating more space for what you want, why wanting something more for yourself isn’t selfish, and how reconnecting with your own values can shape a life that feels both grounded and generous.

If there’s one thing I hope you take from this post, it’s this: you don’t have to know exactly where you’re going. You just have to take the next kind step forward.

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.

Rewrite the Script After 50: Change, Transition, and the Messy Middle

We are good at talking about change. We are far less comfortable talking about transition.

Change is what happens on the outside. Retirement dates arrive. Jobs end. Routines shift. Calendars suddenly open up. Change is visible and often measurable. Transition, on the other hand, happens on the inside. It’s the emotional and psychological process of adjusting to those changes—and it doesn’t follow a schedule.

This is where many people get stuck, especially after 50.

In my first year of retirement, I was still trying to figure out what to do with all the time that had suddenly appeared in my life. For decades, my days had been structured by work, deadlines, and responsibility. When that structure disappeared, I felt unmoored, even though retirement was something I had looked forward to.

Around that time, I was asked to join the board of a local charity. Without overthinking it, I said yes. Part of me wanted to feel useful again. Another part wanted somewhere to go, something to belong to, while I figured out who I was becoming.

As I learned more about what the charity did and the impact it had on the people it served, something unexpected happened. I began to feel a connection to my community that I had never experienced before.

I had lived in that community for fifteen years, but I worked elsewhere. Like many people, I was a commuter. I left early, returned late, and spent most of my waking hours outside the place I called home. My relationship to the community was practical, not personal. I knew the roads, the shops, the routines, but not the deeper rhythms of the people who lived there.

In retirement, that changed.

As I coped with the external change of no longer working, I was also going through an internal transition. Slowly, almost without noticing, I stopped feeling like a stranger in a strange land. I began to feel rooted. I wasn’t just passing through anymore. I was participating. I was transitioning from commuter to citizen.

That experience helped me understand something important: change and transition are not the same thing, and confusing them can lead to frustration and self-doubt.

Most transitions move through three phases.

The first is endings. Even when change is positive, endings involve loss. You lose routines, status, daily interactions, and familiar ways of being seen. Endings ask us to let go, and that often brings grief, irritation, or numbness. Many people try to rush past this phase, telling themselves they should be grateful or relieved. But unacknowledged endings have a way of lingering.

The second phase is the messy middle. This is the part no one prepares us for. The old life no longer fits, but the new one hasn’t fully formed. You may feel restless, uncertain, or oddly invisible. Productivity drops. Confidence wavers. You might wonder if you’ve made a mistake or if something is wrong with you.

Nothing is wrong. You are in transition.

The messy middle is uncomfortable, but it’s also fertile ground. It’s where new identities begin to take shape, often quietly and imperfectly. It’s where you experiment, say yes to things that aren’t permanent, and learn what resonates now, not ten years ago.

The final phase is new beginnings. These don’t arrive with fanfare. They emerge gradually, as clarity replaces confusion and energy returns in different forms. New beginnings feel less like reinvention and more like recognition. You start to see where you fit again, even if the fit looks different than before.

As you move toward or into retirement, life will continue to bring change. You can accept it, resign yourself to it, or embrace it. Embracing doesn’t mean loving every moment. It means staying present, curious, and open while the transition unfolds.

In the next post, I’ll explore the power of purpose and voice, how being heard, being visible, and permitting yourself to want more can steady you during the messy middle and help shape what comes next.

If you’re feeling unsettled right now, take heart. You may not be lost. You may simply be between who you were and who you are becoming.

More thoughts on Transitions

 As I write this I am in great pain, I injured my shoulder and my hip is acting up and so I am feeling a bit sorry for myself.  So, in the spirit of adventure, to stop feeling sorry for myself, and to keep on a theme  here are some quotes about ageing and the transition to retirement

“Retirement is wonderful. ...

“I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. ...

“Stay young at heart, kind in spirit, and enjoy retirement living.”

“The key to retirement is to find joy in the little things.” – Susan Miller.

“There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want.”

“You are not too old, and it is not too late to dive into your increasing depths where life calmly gives out its own secret.” — Rainer Maria Rilke

“Transitions are almost always signs of growth, but they can bring feelings of loss.

To get somewhere new, we may have to leave somewhere else behind.” — Fred Rogers

“Just when the caterpillar thought her life was over, she began to fly.” — A modern twist on an old proverb

“Often when you think you’re at the end of something, you’re at the beginning of something else.” ― Fred Rogers (yes, again)

“My Mission: I’ll stop stressing about the future. Instead, I’ll take that wasted energy and put it into enjoying the present — each day — just a little bit more.”  —Karen Salmansohn

“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”  — Wayne Dyer

Once you retire, you gain complete control over your time, experience more freedom to travel, can pursue new hobbies, and get the chance to experience a vibrant social life.

This time of transition can be made meaningful and useful. It could become the launching pad for the rest of your life. 

The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes.”  ~ Frank Lloyd Wright

“There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.” ~Sophia Loren

“In the central place of every heart, there is a recording chamber.  So long as it receives a message of beauty, hope, cheer, and courage – so long are you young.  When the wires are all down and our heart is covered with the snow of pessimism and the ice of cynicism, then, and only then, are you grown old.”  ~Douglas MacArthur

“For the unlearned, old age is winter; for the learned, it is the season of the harvest.”   ~Hasidic saying

“Every year should teach you something valuable; whether you get the lesson is up to you. Every year brings you closer to expressing your whole and healed self.”   ~Oprah Winfrey

“One of the reasons people get old—lose their aliveness—is that they get weighed down by all of their stuff.” ~Richard Leider 

and my favourite:

“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” ~Mark Twain

Questions to think about

Here are four questions that hopefully will stimulate your thinking about your retirement planning. They are easy questions that are very hard to answer. In your answers think about the pictures and images they call to your mind. There is no correct or wrong answer. You will, however, notice a theme and a progression which hopefully will focus your thoughts. 

I want you to assume that you are financially secure. This means you have enough money to take care of your basic needs and wants now and in the future.
  
The first question is…how would you live your life?  
In answering this question, consider if you would you change anything? Use your imagination and do not hold back on your dreams.  Take some time and write down a description of your complete life with as much detail as you can think about. 

In the next question, you have gone to visit your doctor who tells you that you have only 5 years to live. 

The second question is What will you do in the time you have remaining to live?  What will you change in your life and how will you do it? Will you move, will you change relationships, will you travel, will you create and finish a bucket list?

We move along and you visit your doctor and you are told that you only have one day left to live. This is a shock, but take the time to notice what feelings arise as you confront your very real mortality. 

The third question is in three parts. What will I miss?,  Who did I not get to be?  What did I not get to do? As we are confronted by our own mortality or when we go to the next Celebration of Life, we should think about these questions and if we can we should take steps to be the person I am not yet, and do the things that I have not yet done and spend more time with the people I will miss.

Imagine you are the wise elder of your family and community. The last question goes beyond your life and asks you to contemplate your vision for a better world future and what you can do to create the world you would wish to live in.

The fourth question is What world you would like your grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great, great-grandchildren to live in?  When thinking about your answer, consider what lifestyle changes/actions (large or small) can you take today to ensure the sustainability of the human family and natural world around you for generations to come? What is it that you have done, or will do to make the world closer to the world you imagine for your family?

Transitions

Let’s confront it head-on; retirement is a major life transformation, like going off to university, getting a partner for the first time, or going back to living without children in your home. Retirement may take a little time to get used to; it took me eight years. Create a plan, but don't worry if the plan will not be as you imagined. Based on my life experience and my experience in talking to others here are some suggestions for a steady transformation and a glorious retirement:

·   Required duties kill the spirit notwithstanding age. Don’t agonize about what you believe you should be doing or what others think you should be doing when you retire.  This is about you. It’s your time to do what you want.

·  Generate a daily plan. It may sound like a fabulous scheme to throw away your alarm clock and avoid any new responsibilities. A sudden lack of structure is and can be unsettling for many of us.  I stopped getting up at 6:30 over the first year of my retirement and now I get up closer to 8:30 but that was after 13 years of retirement.  We all need a reason to get up in the morning, so I recommend that you plan to be up by a certain time and have some activities scheduled for specific days each week.

·  Rekindle old friendships. If you can try and develop new friends hopefully in different age groups. I love to read and since I retired I have read hundreds of new books, and I love to putter around my house, I find it comfortable. At the same time, I volunteer, go out with my friends on a weekly basis because I know these activities dare more beneficial to my mental health. It is not easy making new friends when you retire, but one of the easiest ways to make new friends is through new activities such as sports, seminars, cooking classes, travel, hiking clubs, poker night, book clubs, yoga, wine tasting, etc.

·  Get professional help. It took me eight or so years to get used to retirement because I retired without a plan. I was, however, very lucky because I had friends I could talk to about goals and what to do with retirement. Some people may need professional help with this if so, I recommend that you get the help before retirement not after.  The folks who sit down and discuss/plan their post-retirement goals are the ones who typically have a more satisfied, fulfilling retirement.  This can especially be beneficial for married couples and can/should be done before you retire to get on the same page about expectations and concerns. Sometimes people who have retired without a plan may experience some of the following signs and symptoms, If you do experience some of these on a daily basis or for more than two weeks, you may be suffering from depression:

·         Persistent sad, anxious, or “empty” mood

·         Feelings of hopelessness, or pessimism

·         Irritability

·         Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness

·         Loss of interest or pleasure in hobbies and           
           activities

·         Decreased energy or fatigue

·         Moving or talking more slowly

·         Feeling restless or having trouble sitting still

·         Difficulty concentrating, remembering, or making         decisions

·         Difficulty sleeping, early-morning awakening, or 
           oversleeping

·         Appetite and/or weight changes

·         Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts

·         Aches or pains, headaches, cramps, or digestive 
           problems without a clear physical cause and/or 
           that do not ease even with treatment.

Not everyone who is depressed experiences every symptom. Some people experience only a few symptoms while others may experience many. That is why it is important to not self diagnose and talk to your doctor.

Transitions to retirement or anything new 2

William Bridges wrote a very personal account of his own transition during and after his wife’s battle with, and eventual death from, breast cancer. The Way of Transition is the book. In the book, Bridges helps us to understand transition as so much more than simply a change from one state to another. He explains that transition has three parts, only one of which is the liminal space. The three parts, which Bridges says overlap rather than occur sequentially, are:

1.   Making an Ending

This involves more than just leaving your job, or waving bye to the kids as they move out of your house. A good ending requires that you let go not only of what you used to do but of who you used to be. For example, I retired and then immediately start working as a substitute teacher, my rationale was that I still wanted to teach and I thought a bit of extra money and an opportunity to continue to work with colleagues and students, would be helpful. But the real reason was that I still identified myself as a teacher. It took me another 8 years before I realized that I needed to end my role as a teacher and find a new role. Without an ending, there is no new beginning and no possibility of transition.

2.               Inhabiting the Neutral Zone

Danaan Pary describes it as letting go of one trapeze bar and grabbing the next one. “But every once in a while, as I'm merrily (or even not-so-merrily) swinging along, I look out ahead of me into the distance and what do I see? I see another trapeze bar swinging toward me. It's empty and I know, in that place in me that knows, that this new trapeze bar has my name on it. It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me. In my heart of hearts, I know that, for me to grow, I must release my grip on this present, well-known bar and move to the new one.

Each time it happens to me I hope (no, I pray) that I won't have to let go of my old bar completely before I grab the new one. But in my knowing place, I know that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar and, for some moment in time, I must hurtle across space before I can grab onto the new bar.”

William Bridges speaks of this time, as a time of chaos, as “that state of pure energy that is experienced either as a jumble or a time of empty nothingness [that] makes us feel out of control and a little crazy.”

3.               Making a New Beginning

When beginnings come after a definite ending, and time hanging out in the liminal space, those beginnings have great power. Bridges assure us that they are “marked by a release of new energy in a new direction–they are the expression of a new identity.”

Every new beginning confirms that the ending we experienced was real. We will feel a sense of the original loss. And we may worry that this won’t be the right new beginning for us, or that we might fail.

How to Survive and Thrive in a Liminal Space

Liminal Spaces require that we be willing to live with the ambiguity of not knowing what’s next. That’s an incredibly uncomfortable, anxiety-provoking place for many of us.

While waiting is the primary task of the neutral zone, there are a few things you can do while you wait.

·       Schedule a new experience at least once a week. Ideas could be everything from wandering through a toy store to taking a guided walking tour of your own town.

·       Pay attention to meaningful coincidences, or what Carl Jung referred to as synchronicity. They often serve as arrows pointing the way to your next step.

·       Access your creativity in whatever form works for you. You might plant a garden, paint a picture, or write a poem. Creative acts are both soothing and supportive of self-understanding.

·       Meditate.  Meditation is enormously helpful in managing anxiety and getting us used to wait peacefully.

 “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell

Transitions to retirement or anything new 1

We cannot discover new oceans unless we have the courage to lose sight of the shore. Anonymous     

I had not heard the term liminal space until a few days ago and I was enchanted by the concept. The word liminal comes from the Latin word limen, meaning threshold, any point or place of entering or beginning. A liminal space is not just the physical space between one place and the next it is also the time between the ‘what was’ and the ‘what will be our next.’ Liminal space for some is a place of transition, waiting, and most importantly, in my mind, not knowing.

Author and theologian Richard Rohr described this space as:

“where we are betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown. There alone is our old world left behind, while we are not yet sure of the new existence. That’s a good space where genuine newness can begin. Get there often and stay as long as you can by whatever means possible…This is the sacred space where the old world is able to fall apart, and a bigger world is revealed. If we don’t encounter liminal space in our lives, we start idealizing normalcy”.

Have you ever been in a physical liminal space? I have, and so have you I suspect. Every time I go to present a workshop to a new group, I stand at the door, just before crossing that threshold not knowing what to expect. The scariest physical liminal space I remember standing in was the room my wife had just entered to give birth to my daughter. I stood on the threshold and was afraid of going in, but I knew I had to enter to start our new adventure. Maybe you are more familiar with the emotional liminal space that you have encountered? Some of these could have been at the moment of transition from:

·       one home to another

·       married to divorced

·       employed to fired or retired

·       with children coming home to an empty-nester

·       the end of one decade to the start of another (i.e., age 59 to 60)

·       a loved one in your life is gone from your life through death

Each of these finds us where Rohr said, “where we are betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown”. It is a scary and lonely place to be. As a result, most of us will avoid making a transition if we don’t know what is coming next. We stay in a lousy marriage, we wait a few more years before moving, or we postpone our retirement date until we have amassed more money, sense or our health forces us to retire. Many of us will try to get through this time as quickly as possible. We will land on what next so we can feel comfortable.

Retirement Confidence Survey

 We are getting more confident about retirement or my friends in the USA are getting more confident. Hopefully this confidence shifts to us here in Canada.  The 2015 annual Retirement Confidence Survey (RCS) marks the 25th year of the RCS, making it the longest-running survey of its kind in the nation. Among this year’s highlights:

• Whether or not Americans have a retirement savings plan is a key factor in their outlook about having an affordable retirement. The 2015 RCS by EBRI/Greenwald & Associates finds that the nation’s retirement confidence continues to rebound from the record lows experienced between 2009 and 2013—but this is based on the increasing optimism of those who indicate they and/or their spouse have a retirement plan.
• The percentage of workers confident about having enough money for a comfortable retirement, at record lows between 2009 and 2013, increased in 2014 and again in 2015. Twenty-two percent are now very confident (up from 13 percent in 2013 and 18 percent in 2014), while 36 percent are somewhat confident. Twenty-four percent are not at all confident (statistically unchanged from 28 percent in 2013 and 24 percent in 2014).
• The increased confidence since 2013 is strongly related to retirement plan participation. Among those with a  plan, the percentage very confident increased from 14 percent in 2013 to 28 percent in 2015. In contrast, the percentage very confident remained statistically unchanged among those without a plan (10 percent in 2013, 9 percent in 2014, and 12 percent in 2015).
• Retiree confidence in having a financially secure retirement, which historically tends to exceed worker confidence levels, also increased, with 37 percent very confident (up from 18 percent in 2013 and 27 percent in 2014). The percentage not at all confident was 14 percent (statistically unchanged from 14 percent in 2013 and 17 percent in 2014).
• Worker confidence in the affordability of various aspects of retirement has also rebounded. In particular, the percentage of workers who are very confident in their ability to pay for basic expenses has increased (37 percent, up from 25 percent in 2013 and 29 percent in 2014). The percentages of workers who are very confident in their ability to pay for medical expenses (18 percent, up from 12 percent in 2011) and long-term care expenses (14 percent, up from 9 percent in 2011) are slowly inching upward.
• Cost of living and day-to-day expenses head the list of reasons why workers do not save (or save more) for retirement, with 50 percent of workers citing these factors. Nevertheless, many workers say they could save a small amount more. Seven in 10 (69 percent) state they could save $25 a week more than they are currently saving for retirement.

Canada pension plan

The pressure is on and the attacks continue on the Canada Pension Plan (CPP).  A report says administrators are hiding the fact that the cost of running the Canada Pension Plan has more than tripled since 2006 because of transaction and external management fees.

The Fraser Institute report says proponents of an expanded CPP or a provincial pension plan in Ontario don't talk about the hidden costs of large, government-managed plans.

Philip Cross, co-author of the study and a former chief economic analyst for Statistics Canada, says the total cost of running the CPP jumped to $2 billion in 2012-13, from $600 million in 2006-07.

Canadians should be informed of the total costs of the CPP’s operations and the total costs involved in its increasingly complex investment strategy,” Cross and Emes wrote in their report.

The report failed to mention that both of those figures already are available to anyone with an interest and an internet connection. They have been for years.

CPPIB discloses all of its costs in its annual reports. The publication breaks out spending by external management fees ($947 million in FY2014), transaction costs ($216 million), operating expenses ($576 million), and compensation for seven executives (CEO Mark Wiseman earned $3.6 million), among other spending categories. Likewise, CPP’s annual reports give a full accounting of the cost of administrating Canada’s $288 billion pension system ($490 million).

Still, the highest-rated feedback—by far—asked, “In all that talk, I didn't see the most pertinent question answered: Relative to the performance of a passive system, adjusting for all costs and fees, does the current system beat (or not beat) the return?”


Once again, CPPIB has the disclosed the figures and Cross has done the arithmetic. Since the reference portfolio’s 2006 inception, active strategies have generated an excess $5 billion. Subtract all the fees—administrative plus investment—and Canada’s pensioners finish $3 billion richer.  So costs may be high, but the return is also high. The attacks are from a perspective that wants the government fund to fail, but it is routinely doing better than most private sector pension plans. The success of the program must be galling for those who want to downsize and privatize pensions for Canadians. 

One of the main resources Canadians rely on is the Canada Pension plan, and as long as it continues Canadians who have worked will have income when they retire.