In early September I sat down and wrote the six pillars I wanted my retirement to rest on: friends, art, nature, writing, family, and health. The list felt like a promise, but a quick glance at my calendar revealed that coaching commitments had already claimed most of my days. I help women navigate exactly this transition, yet I was tripping over my own advice.
Many readers can relate: you may have a tidy list of passions, yet the daily grind pushes those items to the bottom. Whether you are still employed and hear “what will you do after you retire?” or you are already sipping coffee in retirement, the gap between intention and reality often feels wider than expected.
What crowded out the retirement vision
Last year I retired from a university and decided that coaching women through retirement would become a central part of my own post-career life. The conversations are rewarding – they sit high on my personal priority list. However, the endless tinkering around each client interaction soon swallowed the space I had reserved for painting classes and coffee dates.
I found myself rewriting a newsletter for the 20th time, tweaking a blog post, polishing a free guide, and then hunting for another tiny improvement. In my journal I captured the moment: “I’m constantly finding ways to improve and it’s exhausting me.” Those coaching tasks had expanded far beyond the modest slice of time I had imagined.
The day that became my recipe
A few days after the list, a perfect day unfolded and I recorded each ingredient. First, coffee with my cat Rosie perched on my lap while my husband lingered nearby. Next came a walk and breakfast with a friend, followed by a quiet session of knitting and a splash of art. The only coaching work that day was writing my weekly newsletter – a single, intentional task.
After the newsletter I pruned tomato plants, slipped into a warm bath, and watched two episodes of the funny Netflix series Leanne. The evening wrapped up with errands, dinner beside my husband, and a late-night stroll around our neighborhood. I wrote beside the newsletter entry, “And only then did I write a newsletter. THIS IS SO IMPORTANT!!!” The order mattered: when the joyful activities led, the coaching work stayed proportionate.
Scoring a week to find hidden joy
Researchers like Brené Brown describe joy as an “intense feeling of deep spiritual connection, pleasure, and appreciation.” To locate that feeling in your own routine, ask: “When did I feel this kind of joy last week, even for a few minutes?” Then score each activity from –5 to +5. A +5 represents an energizing, alive moment; a –5 signals drain or tension.
List five to seven actions from the past week – both chosen and obligatory. Observe the highest scores and note common threads: the setting, the people involved, the type of creation. Next, examine the sequence. Did the top-scoring moments happen early in the day? Did any single task dominate your schedule? This simple audit often reveals the hidden culprits that crowd out happiness.
Putting the recipe into practice
Armed with the scoring results, I began blocking calendar slots for the activities that earned the highest marks: art lessons, hiking, gym sessions, a new women’s group, and regular coffee with friends. Some evenings I draft a tiny checklist to guarantee that joy-fueling tasks appear before the next coaching edit. I even drafted a newsletter while sitting in an Irish pub, my husband watching a football match – I gave that moment a +3.5.
The key insight is that you don’t need to know every future passion. Start by recognizing what already feels good in your current life and the order in which it appears. By continuously journaling and scoring, you can fine-tune the balance between work and the moments that truly light you up.
