Letting go and transitioning with intention
In my opinion, one of the hardest parts of retirement is learning to let go. When you’ve spent decades in a leadership role, you feel responsible for everything. You think your teams will need to continue doing things your way to be successful, or the organization might fall apart if you’re not there. But it won’t.
I was very intentional about my retirement process. It wasn’t only about handing off my responsibilities; it was about setting my team up for success so they could move forward with confidence. Doing that gave me the space to focus on my own personal transition. By the time retirement day came and the emails, Teams’ messages, and phone calls stopped, I was ready. It wasn’t a shock. I had already started to shift into what was next.
Removing the deadline
That mindset—of not forcing things—actually goes back much earlier in my life. When I moved to the US from Argentina more than three decades ago, I had three goals: learn English, earn my CPA license, and find a job. Those were simple yet big goals for me, but I made a conscious decision not to set strict timelines for them. I didn’t say, “I must be fluent in six months or a year.” Instead, I focused on making progress.
Reflecting on that time, I believe removing unnecessary pressure on myself was one of the key factors in my later successful career. Today, I apply the same philosophy to this stage of life. I’m now learning art, but I’m not saying that in six months, I have to be an artist. That makes the journey much more enjoyable.
Why structure matterd more than answers
Working with my MyNextSeason advisor gave me something I didn’t realize I needed: structure. The regular conversations and reflection may not have provided all the answers for what would come next, but they created intentionality around a process that can otherwise just happen to you. My wonderful advisor had to witness more than a few tears, but the space to process the emotional side of leaving, not just the logistical side, made a big difference.
Rejecting the need to stay busy
One thing I quickly realized in retirement is that I don’t need to be busy all the time to feel fulfilled. When I meet with former colleagues, people often talk about the boards they joined or the projects they’re working on. When it gets to me, I usually say something simple: my day starts around 10:30 AM after my first coffee, second coffee, a sketch, and then walking the dog. And honestly, I feel great about that.
For most of my life, I was used to deadlines, schedules, and constant intellectual work. When I retired, I knew one thing very clearly: I didn’t want to continue doing the same type of work I had always done. Instead of trying to immediately figure out what I should do next, I decided to step back and think about how I wanted to live.
Starting with the principles, not activities
At my core, I want something simple: to age gratefully and with integrity while staying curious, active, and connected. From there, three principles emerged:
- Keep learning something new
- Keep moving physically
- Invest in relationships and stay connected
They’re intentionally broad. The idea wasn’t to build a rigid schedule, but to create a filter. When opportunities come up, I simply ask: Does this align with my principles? If it does, and I’m interested, I do it. Working with my MyNextSeason advisor helped sharpen that thinking. Having a defined purpose and a set of principles was the right approach, but he challenged me to step back and develop a structure to apply those principles during my next chapter.
This is where I started to merge my new approach with my professional experience. Every Monday morning, I draw a simple week-at-a-glance, but I keep it very flexible. I place a few things I want to make time for during the week, but I don’t lock them into specific days.
Discovering art and a different way of seeing
I’ve been thinking a lot about a poem I love, “Late Growth,” by T.H. Gillis. It reminds me that growth doesn’t end; it shifts. That’s exactly what my keep-learning-something-new principle is about: staying open, staying curious, and letting this chapter teach me in ways my earlier ones didn’t.
When I was a child in Argentina, one of my grandfathers used to sit with me and teach me how to sketch. He would show me how to look at things, how to translate what I saw onto paper. One thing he always told me was: never throw away a pencil. It still has life in it. There’s still creativity left in it. Don’t waste that tool.
Years later, in this next stage of life, I found myself coming back to it. I decided to learn how to sketch and paint more intentionally. Now, sketching and painting are part of my daily rhythm, whether through online classes or a quick sketch over coffee. I find myself with my tools working on a piece for hours, and it gives me joy. What I didn’t expect was how much it would change the way I see the world.
When you start drawing, you begin noticing details you never paid attention to before. While walking the dog, I look up at the clouds or the light hitting a tree. It’s like the world suddenly becomes more detailed and beauty reveals itself in a different way. And at the end of the day, there’s something tangible in front of me, something I made with my hands. After decades of intellectual work, creating something physical feels incredibly satisfying.
Being available for what matters
One of the biggest gifts retirement has given me is availability. Not just being physically present but having the time and space to truly engage with my family. I spend more time reflecting now, thinking about my own experiences, what worked, what didn’t, and what I’ve learned along the way. That’s allowed me to show up differently with my daughters as they build their own careers and independent lives. I find myself in more conversations where I can offer guidance, share perspective, or just listen. Sometimes it’s coaching, sometimes it’s mentoring, and sometimes it’s simply being there without trying to solve anything. Those moments matter.
Moving without pressure
Physical activity is another principle I take seriously. But the key difference now is that I don’t put pressure on myself. I used to follow intense workout programs, but I realized that they did not fit my needs anymore. Today, my approach to physical fitness is oriented toward long-term preventive health care.
For example, I do Pilates twice a week and strength training two or three times, and I take active recovery very seriously and intentionally. Walking has become especially important. I don’t listen to music or podcasts; I just walk and think. Those quiet walks often spark ideas for my art or give me time to reflect.
Contentment with room for possibility
Right now, the best word to describe how I feel is content. That doesn’t mean I’ll never do anything else. I may eventually explore volunteering, especially opportunities that connect with my principles. Retirement has given me something incredibly valuable: time to explore, observe, and appreciate things I never noticed before. I am thankful for this moment and looking ahead with excitement and humility. And sometimes, that simply means looking up at the clouds and thinking, that would make a great sketch.