Happy Sunday Friends!

Here is 1 quote I’m musing, 2 Ideas, 3 of my favorite things from the week, and 1 question. If you find it useful or interesting, please feel free to forward this along to some friends or others!

Side Note: I had a couple individuals tell me they enjoyed reading my Musings but had some questions about a couple points. It was great conversation and helped me see additional perspectives! It was just a coincidental meeting that spurred the conversation. If you have thoughts, Shoot me a message! I welcome the feedback, ideas, perspectives! I promise I'll respond!

One Quote I’m Musing

“My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it… but love it.”

-Friedrich Nietzsche

I’ve had the extreme benefit of being in a place where I talk to people at the start of their careers, mid-careers, apex of their career, and at or near the culmination of said careers. There’s a rich tapestry of experiences, lessons learned, and wisdom from these generous few that have helped shape my view of “Planning for the End”. Or, rather, transitioning in career (retirement, death, or other changes). Here are some recurring themes I’ve noted on approaching this often misunderstood (read scary) chapter in life.

I was talking with a gentleman in his sixties who had spent decades as a senior leader in a technical field. By all measures, he was an immense success. Worked from a junior “do-er”, then a junior leader, then a middle leader, up to being the key decision-maker and leader in his field. I asked where his thoughts were now that he was in this transitional period and what advice he would give someone early in their career. There was a lot, but for time’s sake, The most poignant was to Love it all. Even the stuff that didn’t love you back”.

The Stoics would call this Amor Fati - loving your fate no matter what. Feeling that everything happens for a purpose, and it is up to you to make the purpose positive. Like many of us, his career had its share of frustrations, setbacks, and challenges, but those were what taught him the most. Looking back, he could “see that the hardest days shaped me in ways that those easy ones never could.” Accepting the whole journey-good and bad-because it all matters and shapes you into who you will become. He embraces his upcoming retirement with openness and acceptance of what will come next-the same way he’s embraced his career.

In contrast, I’ve bet a high-powered executive at the very top of their game yet very nervous about what lay ahead. They’d spent years building reputation and were, frankly, afraid of losing the identity their career had given them. When I asked about their fears, they mentioned something I hadn’t given too much time to: “The silence is scary. No more emails, meetings, questions, no more people needing me.”

I really get it, and to hear it so plainly spoken, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of vulnerability in myself as well.

That conversation had me thinking about Memento Mori- the reminder that everything, including our careers, is finite. They were facing the reality that this chapter of their life, like all others, will end.

This wasn’t simply fearing looming death; it was loss of identity (a kind of death in itself); a change from being someone in high demand to someone with more potentially more time than purpose. This person isn’t alone, I’ve seen this fear in many others - people who’ve spent decades in demanding careers only to find themselves at a loss when those careers no longer define them.

Another vignette is from a person who’d been highly successful in his pursuits. They’d moved around the Department of Defense, through federal employment, in uniform, out of uniform and across a few very different disciplines. In their later seventies, they’re still very much involved in business pursuits but admit that there’s not much left. Their health isn’t what it used to be, and their family has been encouraging them to step back. But they resist. “I’m not done, and I don’t know what I’d do if I just stopped.”

For both of these people, they unearth a fear that retirement meant the end, not just of career but of significance. For them, work isn’t simply what they did; it’s what they were. Stopping felt like a kind of death. This is an entirely common sentiment in high operational tempo careers. Seeing retirement as anything but the conclusion, a door closed forever.

From these conversations, I think we need to not cling so tightly to a single identity. We are not one-dimensional entities. These careers, like life, don’t last forever. We aren’t simply our jobs, we are fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, friends, mentors, students, creators, and confidants. Concluding a chapter of life should feel just like when we read a book. That part of the story has been told, and a happy anticipation for the beginning of what is to come. It’s not about losing your sense of purpose, but rather, redefining it.

To quote Mary Schmich “The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.”

A last, nostalgic, vignette. When I was in high school (way back machine turned on here), I had a retired Marine Colonel as a teacher. He had just retired after 35 years in the Corps. He was the picture of put together, dressed sharply, still had short-cropped hair, and perfectly content in his new role as a part-time and substitute teacher. I do remember asking him about his time in the military, and how he felt about teaching in such a small town and “doing nothing”. He gave me a rakish grin and said “It’s just the next step. Life changes.”

Thinking on it, his words are the reminder of how important it is to recognize that change is a (maybe THE) constant in life. Careers, friends, family, our physical and mental capacities-all of these shift and evolve over time. He’d clearly embraced this fact, transitioning to my teenage eyes (and my now quadragenarian memory) seamlessly from one role to another. Unafraid of the changes from chapter to chapter bring because, “I’ve been changing my whole life.” This underscores a crucial point: the ability to navigate transitions in life with grace comes from accepting that change is inevitable. We can’t stop it, but we can decide how we’ll respond to it.

I’ve talked with others who found new passions and projects after closing a first career chapter that gave them a new and profound sense of purpose. One woman went from middling reporter to a massively successful career in finance and now provides financial advice to others. Another man left a 40-year career in the Navy and now supports his wife’s career while spending time with their kids and families, being grandpa and available for all. We’re all different, we all have different purposes and definitions of success.

Comparison is this thief of joy.

Regardless of camp you find yourself in, transition is about preparing for the emotional and psychological shifts that will come with it. Those who’ve struggled weren’t the ones thinking beyond their current career. Spending so long defined by what they do at work, that they couldn’t consider who they were outside the office. On the other hand, those thriving are those who’ve embraced change, accepted impermanence despite success, and stayed open to an idea that life continues apace even after a chapter ends.

Do describe this in a kitschy phrase “the end isn’t the end.”

The end is just a chapter completing its narrative, preparing us for the next. The skills, experiences, and wisdom we’ve gained over our careers and chapters don’t disappear when we retire, when we transition to the next thing. They take on new forms, applied to different areas of life. Be that spending more time with family, volunteering, pursuing long-neglected passions, or new careers, the next chapter is ours to shape.

So, when we think about career transitions, don’t see it as a final act, see it as another transition in the story book that is life-one that requires reflection, acceptance, and a hopeful eagerness to embrace whatever comes next.

Memento Mori, Amor Fati, wear your sunscreen.

-e

Two Ideas From Me

We will overcome many obstacles in life. Don’t let the ego following accomplishment keep you from discerning good advice from bad advice.
We cannot be pen and ink intellectuals. We have to go out into the great wide world to pair up our ideas and theories with the realities of life.

Three Favorite Things From Others

June, 1999 Article “Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young” | Mary Schmich - Chicago Tribune article for the graduating class of 1999. (Some of us know this as the “Wear Sunscreen” speech made popular by Bas Lurhman).
“When we say we’ve sacrificed something for our career, we shouldn’t be afraid to put a name to who that sacrifice was, because often times it was the people that we call friends.” | Trevor Noah friend (He didn’t name her).
“The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.” | Friedrich Nietzche

One Question

How can you take the first small steps to make the most of the next chapter in your life?

Have a wonderful week,

I’ll see you Sunday.
-e