Life II and the End of Retirement

Life II and the End of Retirement

Free at last! For years I worked burdened by the weight of commitments, disciplined by objectives, pressed in on every side by rules set by others. And now I’m free of all of that! I can make my own rules, assign my own tasks, spend my time just as I wish.

Atlas shrugged and the weight of the world fell from his shoulders.

A life of ease. A life without weight. Lighter than air. No worries. No attachments. No responsibilities. No authority… except that which comes from inside me. A life centered entirely on me. Utterly at my whim. Resort life. A round of golf. A walk in the woods. A pleasant lunch on the terrace of an expensive restaurant.

"More wine, sir? I’ll pour."

I’ll go to a movie on Tuesday afternoon. The theater will be empty so I can arrive late, sit where I want, park close to the front door. Everybody else will still be at work … where I used to be. But I’m done with that now. Done.

Free at last! Yes, this is the life!

… or is it?

I’d like to talk to you about a life that didn’t used to exist, what I call Life II.

A Life Unavailable to Our Parents

Odds are, you (and your clients) are going to live a whole adult lifetime unknown and available to your parents and grandparents. Their life expectancy at birth was fifty years. We have two lifetimes now. Life I occurs before halftime—the in-between season that happens at about age 45, plus or minus a few years. It’s the time of "now what?" I described in my first book—and Life II comes afterwards. Most people have a pretty good plan for Life I, but few can see their way forward into Life II.

Halftime used to be the beginning of the end. Now it is the beginning of a whole new beginning: a season that for me and many others has turned out to be the richest and most meaning-filled season of all.

Here’s the way Peter Drucker, the management expert and social analyst, describes it in his Foreword to my book, Stuck in Halftime:

"Up until maybe 1900, even in the most highly developed countries, the overwhelming majority followed their father—if they were lucky. If your father was a peasant farmer, you were a peasant farmer. If he was a craftsman, you were a craftsman. There was no such thing as upward mobility.

And now suddenly, a very large number of people choose what they want to be. And what’s more, they will have more than one career. The average working life span is now close to sixty years. You got twenty years in 1900.

In a very short time, we will no longer believe that retirement means the end of working life. Retirement may even come much earlier than ever, but working life will continue if only out of economic necessity. For many, however, working well beyond retirement will be a choice based on preference. They will either tire of luxury or desire to use their knowledge and experience to contribute to society."

But how? Most people are badly unprepared for Life II; there is no university for the Second Half. A major challenge for the helping professions is to help those who "don’t have a clue" to determine how to best reinvest themselves for what’s likely to be a whole second adulthood. How can they find meaning and purpose in work? That’s the question.

No Meaning Without Work

To begin with, I maintain that there is no meaning without work. Finding meaningful work in life’s second half is a necessity, not a luxury.

Peter Drucker once challenged me with these words: "The most important thing you’re working on is halftime. You’ve identified a need, and you’ve started a lot of people asking the right questions and put them on a quest for significance. Now it’s time for you to go find the lessons for what makes the second half of life work.But don’t write a book for old people; find the lessons for the 45-year-olds. By 65, it’s too late."

So I set out to find the code breakers and pathfinders, the pioneers across this new demographic frontier. I wanted to find the leaders out ahead of us in this new territory. These people are redefining what it means to be 50 and beyond. I wanted to find out what these code breakers were thinking and, more importantly, what they were doing to find meaning in Life II.

I interviewed more than 120 exceptional people who are making a meaningful difference in the lives of others and, as a byproduct, living with passion and contagious enthusiasm. They have punched right through the demographic frontier that seems to impose real limits for most of us. The result is my new book, Finishing Well, from which this article is drawn.

It is good that there is a very clear upside to staying engaged. There’s a downside too.

The Downside

Dr. Armand Nicholi, editor of The Harvard Guide to Psychiatry, writes for academic journals, is a gifted lecturer and speaker, and also maintains a vigorous clinical practice. He gave me the line that may well be the coffee-cup slogan for this article: "It’s about relationships!"

"You know," he told me, "I teach people who are just starting out. As Harvard students, they’re all bright, and they often have talents or interests that they’re actively pursuing. But early in the semester I ask them, ‘What is your goal in life?’ Invariably they answer, ‘to be successful.’ So I say, ‘What does that mean to you?’ and their answer will have some relationship to fame and fortune."

But such an answer inevitably comes up short. "I tell them we all have a lifespan of about 30,000 days," Dr. Nicholi said, "and we spend about a third of that time sleeping. That means we have a waking lifespan of about 20,000 days. Then I say, ‘If you had 20 days left, what would you do with them?’ They universally answer that they would spend that time working on their relationships with family and friends, and if they’re people of faith, with their God."

In a subsequent lecture, Dr. Nicholi suggests to his students that "fame and fortune" in fact conflict with their highest stated priority of friends and family. They become so intensely focused on wealth and glory that they neglect the things they value most.

But does the same problem hold for people in their fifties and older? What does Dr. Nicholi see when he observes a typical, middle-aged patient sitting before him, unpacking whatever issues he or she has brought to the counseling office?

"Two words," he replied, "disordered priorities. These people have spouses who are of secondary importance to them; they have children they’re not close to anymore and who have turned to influences other than the family. And they’ve been so busy looking after their own interests that they’ve basically neglected God altogether."

Retirement for such people becomes a major problem, because after they leave the 9-to-5 lifestyle, they have nothing significant with which to replace it. "For the last thirty or forty years," Dr. Nicholi told me, "they have been getting their sense of self-worth from what they do for a living, and when that’s gone, they don’t know who they are."

We were made to work, Dr. Nicholi believes, and to maintain meaning in our lives we need to get engaged in meaningful and purposeful work. "The people who feel best about themselves after retirement are those who get involved in some kind of work or activity where they can make a contribution to others," he said, "such as volunteer work, mentoring, or teaching. Sharing your wealth through charitable giving and philanthropy is very important, but sharing your knowledge is every bit as important." It’s the opposite of ‘fame and fortune,’ but it has lasting significance. I’ve often said, ‘The fruit of my work grows on other people’s trees.’"

Yet most of us who retire don’t replace our work with something else—and if we don’t find that sort of involvement, eventually we’ll feel totally useless. Simply because a short time ago we had "fame and fortune" has no power to mitigate our inner sense of worthlessness.

"The quality of life does not depend on happiness alone," declared Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi in Finding Flow; The Psychology of Engagement with Everyday Life, "but also on what one does to be happy. If one fails to develop goals that give meaning to one’s existence, if one does not use the mind to its fullest, then good feelings fulfill just a fraction of the potential we possess. A person who achieves contentment by withdrawing from the world to ‘cultivate his own garden,’ like Voltaire’s Candide, cannot be said to lead an excellent life. Without dreams, without risks, only a trivial semblance of living can be achieved. … Without a consistent set of goals, it is difficult to develop a coherent self."

The Upside

So who makes the most of Life II? That’s easy: those who decide they are not going to live without purpose in the second half of life. There is a better way, and it is to repurpose ourselves for a more fulfilling life before we come to the end of the curve.

A turning point in my own life came in a conversation I had twenty years ago with Michael Kami, one of this country’s top strategic planners. I made an appointment with Mike to explore my own halftime plans; I wanted to get his professional advice about some of the options. Mike asked me to describe my basic interests and motivations, so I began telling him about all the things that interested me. But suddenly Mike stopped me in mid-sentence and asked a question that changed my life.

"What’s in the box?" he asked.

In the box? I wondered. What on earth does that mean? So I asked him.

"What’s central to your life?" Mike clarified. "If there were room for only one thing in your life, what would it be?" He took a pencil and sketched out a small square on a sheet of paper, along with a dollar sign and a cross, and said, "From what you’re telling me, there are two things at the top of your list of priorities: your religious faith and your career." Then he pointed at the box and said, "Before I can help you decide how to focus your interests, you have to decide: What’s in the box?"

Suddenly I knew I had a choice to make. What would it be for me: more money, more success, or more energy transferred to the calling I sensed so strongly? "Well, if you put it that way," I said after what seemed an eternity, "it’s the cross."

That one decision helped to frame everything I’ve done since. Choosing that small cross didn’t indicate that the work I felt called to do—to serve God—was my only loyalty in Life II. There were also family, customers, employees, recreation and the like. But that little cross has designated the primary loyalty for my life between then and now. I also came to see that this issue of "What now? What next?" confronts many others at a similar stage in life.

So here’s my question: What’s in your box? Those who enjoy the most meaningful lives have considered their options and gotten some clarity about their purpose in life. They have decided what they want at the heart and soul of their existence. A related question also suggests itself: What do you want to be remembered for? When we begin to focus on Life II, those are the questions we need to ask.

A couple of years ago I spoke to a man in Toronto who had been a successful executive in the corporate world. He’d been working (as he described it) for "stock options and pats on the back." But one day he realized the person giving him the pats on the back wouldn’t even be there in six months, and he asked himself why he thought those things mattered. He gave up corporate life for a pastoral ministry and never looked back. When I asked why he did it, he said, "Because it’s about changed lives."

I heard that answer repeatedly in the course of my interviews.

A meaningful Life II does not, of course, require an epiphany or a big change of direction. Sometimes people find significant purpose in their original calling and simply amplify and fulfill it by doing the job at hand. Such is the case with Vester Hughes, a nationally known tax lawyer who, along with Tom Luce, founded the Texas law firm of Hughes & Luce.

"It seems to me," he said, "that whatever you do, if it’s honorable and worthwhile, is a kind of calling. My thought process is fairly short-term. I ask myself, What am I supposed to do today? And what will contribute the most benefit from what I’m supposed to do today?"

Vester likes to keep in mind a simple, three-line prayer: "Lord, I can’t do anything about yesterday, and tomorrow may not come. Let me be your man today."

Vester had learned from his father—and he sometimes tells his clients—that everyone must decide at least three things on their own: First, what they do for a living; second, if and who they want to marry; and third, the character of their spiritual life. When Vester says these things, he lets his clients know he’s trying to be a helper, not a judge.

"I think we’re all at our best when we’re a helper," he said. "As a lawyer, it’s my job to recognize when someone doesn’t have certain kinds of knowledge or experience. But my purpose is to help them accomplish whatever it is they want. If I make it more difficult for them, I’m not doing my job. In the end, I want to help them decide exactly what it is they want to do."

Everyone Has a Halftime

As successful people reach halftime, they often begin to ask themselves, What causes me to get up each morning with renewed enthusiasm? What’s in the box? What’s the main thing? What’s central to my life? Do I want to look back ten years from now and find myself with more of the same?

Many are answering, "No! I don’t want to fill the rest of my life with more of the same kind of success I’ve been achieving. I’ve chased the mechanical rabbit long enough. I’ve caught it many times only to find myself looking for another rabbit. The quest is endless and meaningless. I’m ready for the real rabbit. It’s dawning on me that I want more than just success; I want a more meaning-rich life now."

Success and significance may resemble each other in terms of what you do day-to-day, but which you pursue as the primary choice of your life makes a big difference in why you get up in the morning. Success commonly means using your knowledge and experience to gain fame and fortune. Significance, however, means using the same knowledge and experience to serve others—that is, to change lives.

Sooner or later, we all come to a fork in the road. Down one road we find more of the same—The American Idea of Success, the title of a 1971 book by Richard Huber. The first sentence of his book pretty well summarizes all 450 pages of Huber’s extensive research: "What is success? In America, success has meant making money and translating it into status, or becoming famous."

Down the other road—what Scott Peck called "the road less traveled"—the outcome is entirely different. The process of travel on either road may look much the same, but each leads to much different outcomes.

What do you choose? What’s in your box? You can’t put both in first place. Sooner or later you must choose. What is your primary loyalty in life? When you get up each morning, to what do you want to devote the day?

Three Challenges

Harvard Business School professor, Laura Nash, recently came out with a terrific book titled Just Enough. She and a colleague, Howard Stevenson, did a series of interviews with high achiever types who attended HBS graduate and executive programs. Her book shows how "there are really four components to success that people seek in their lives. The four categories are: achievement, happiness, significance, and legacy." That requires finding balance, the first of three key challenges to seeking significance in Life II.

Nash claims that those who navigate this voyage well tend to have one thing in common: "an openness to change. And that’s been exciting. . . My impression is that there is no end to it. It is ongoing transformations. You keep starting over."

Once you begin learning how to find balance in the second half of your life, the next step is to focus on finding the core of your personality—the immovable center of who you are.

Peter Drucker helped me see my own core. He told me in 1991 that my mission for the second half of my life was to work on "transforming the latent energy in American Christianity into active energy." That’s his phrase, but I believe it’s right for me. The form of the work may turn out to be a book, a speech, or a contribution of time, talent or money to Leadership Network or to some other organization. But whatever the form, it must grow out of the core of my being.

We all have an essential core. If we know what it is, whenever we’re in doubt or in crisis, we can always return to that essential core.

Dick Bolles has done perhaps the best work in this field in his perennial What Color Is Your Parachute? Though he emphasizes finding your next first half job, many of the exercises he provides (which he’s spent years in developing) provide the right questions to help find one’s core at any age. He provides a wonderful section titled "Finding Your Mission in Life."

Once you identify your core, the third key challenge is to find the right context for the next session of your life. You need to find the context that brings forth the best from your unique gifts and abilities.

Jim Collins, at age 45, has authored two best-selling books about business. Today he’s focusing on what he calls "Level 5 Leadership," and his most surprising discovery is that top performers are 1) genuinely humble and 2) fully devoted to the mission.

Collins has worked in the labyrinths of big business (Hewlett Packard), has consulted for businesses (McKinsey & Company), and has taught at a leading business school (Stanford). But he told me that business has never been his primary interest. It’s the context of business—by which he means "the appropriateness of fit"—that captures his imagination.

"If your ambition is X," Collins told me, "and along the way you discover that where you really belong is X-minus-1 or X-minus-2, then it’s not smart to keep bucking for X."

To illustrate, he noted the acclaimed three-volume series by Robert Caro on the political career of former president Lyndon Johnson. Collins believes that Johnson would have been much wiser to stay in the Senate rather than to reach for the presidency—that’s where he best "fit," not in the White House. "And that’s why I think Caro titled his third volume Master of the Senate," Collins added. "That’s what Johnson was really suited for."

I began to learn this lesson years ago when I was asked to squire Bill Donaldson around at a Young President’s Organization meeting. Bill is now the head of the Securities and Exchange Commission. He went to Harvard Business School, was co-founder of Donaldson, Lufkin and Jenrette on Wall Street, and then went to work for Gov. Hugh Carey of New York. After that he worked for Henry Kissinger in the State Department. When I met him he was dean of the Yale School of Management.

Donaldson told me that each of those jobs had completely different contexts, and each context had an utterly different set of rules. In business, he said, it’s all about the bottom line; in politics, it’s all about power and who’s in charge; and academia is all about process and organization. Business people who come to Washington often fail, he said, because they try playing by the wrong rules. They don’t realize that changing the context means changing the rules, and consequently a lot of people who move from one context to another don’t do well.

Finding balance. Finding your core. Finding the right context. They’re all keys to achieving significance in the second half of your life.

A Life and Death Decision

Finishing Well is a life and death decision. Not death in a physical sense (though my doctor, Ken Cooper, tells me that people tend to die two to seven years after they retire), but a sort of twilight dying in a meaningless second half of life, wasted as Mr. and Mrs. Used-to-Be.

Life is a miracle, a precious commodity too valuable to squander. Most of the successful people I interviewed have realized this. Whether they had a clearly-defined Life II experience, or whether they incorporated significance into their initial careers, the idea of stopping to rest on their laurels is unthinkable to them. They don’t intend to waste an ounce of their precious gifts.

Why should they miss out on the exhilaration of feeling the wind in their face as they sprint toward the finish line? Where’s the joy in listening to the creak of the rocking chair while watching the road for the undertaker? Why turn off the ignition and rust out? Instead, these dynamic personalities choose to let the odometer spin as long as their spark plugs fire. Work is a necessity for life—not just paid work, but work itself. Work fills an existential void vastly more important than its economic function.

The most startling insight I discovered in my interviews was that none of the 62 remarkable people included in Finishing Well plan to follow the conventional paradigm of hard work followed by a life of leisure. NONE! They can’t afford to. There’s simply too much of life yet to go. These pioneers show me that Tennyson was right:

Come, my friends

‘tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite

The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Of all the western stars, until I die.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,