Our Relationship with Time
Retirement is supposed to give us more time. But two recent coaching conversations made me wonder what we actually mean when we say that.
The first client had just turned 64, with retirement just around the corner. She talked about all the things she still wanted to learn, the books she hadn't read, the skills she wanted to pick up, and the experiences she still hoped to have. Then she said, "I feel like I'm running out of time."
My first instinct was that she meant life was busy. That the days were too short. But as she kept talking, I realised she meant something else entirely. She wasn't talking about hours or weeks. She was talking about the years she might have left. I felt my heart sink a little. It wasn't exactly shocking, but I knew what she meant.
A few weeks earlier, I'd been sitting with another client who had just retired. For the first time in decades, there was nowhere he needed to be. No meetings, no deadlines, no overflowing inbox, no problems waiting for him to solve. Entire days were suddenly his. You'd think that would feel like a relief. For him, it didn't.
He didn't know what to do with himself.
Work had provided structure for most of his adult life. It gave him somewhere to be, something to contribute, and a way of knowing who he was. Now the calendar was empty, and underneath all that freedom was a question he couldn't shake: Who am I when nobody needs me at work anymore?
One person felt she had too little time. The other had more than he knew what to do with. Funny how the same word can mean something completely different to two people standing at practically the same door.
Listening to them, I realised they were both wrestling with the same thing. Not retirement itself, but their relationship with time. One had become acutely aware that there might be fewer years ahead than behind. The other had woken up to a future with no structure and no clear direction. One felt urgency. The other felt uncertainty.
Maybe that's the thing about retirement that doesn't get talked about enough. It's not just a financial transition. It's an identity transition. You have to figure out what deserves your time when nobody else is handing you a schedule anymore.
One client was asking, "Do I have enough time left?" The other was asking, "What do I do with all this time?" Different questions. Same rabbit hole.
