Retirement is billed as the time when we finally get to do what we want. No alarm clock. No commute. No calendar filled with meetings we didn’t schedule.
After decades of taking care of what needed to be taken care of, we’ve earned some freedom. But there’s an interesting question hiding inside that freedom: Do we know what we want?
For much of our adult lives, need had a pretty loud voice. We needed to earn a living. Raise children. Show up when other people were counting on us.
Yes, we had choices. But there was also a framework around our lives that dictated what demanded our attention.
Retirement can remove a surprising amount of that framework. We shift the way we spend our time. Many old demands slip away. The structure of our days loses some shape.
And along with that, want gets more of a voice. The problem is that we may have gotten a little rusty at listening to it.
We sometimes think of wanting as indulgent. What do I want? can sound like a question about where we’d like to travel, what we’d like to buy, or how we’d like to spend a free afternoon.
Those things count. But the question goes deeper. It requires a little soul-searching and some quiet reflection.
How do I want my days to feel? Who do I want to spend more time with? What gives me energy? Is there something I’d still like to learn, contribute, or experience?
I asked myself that last question a year ago and discovered I wanted to learn how to write poetry.
Would I be any good at it? Maybe. But that didn’t matter. It felt like a lively, lovely way to use my brain, and I wanted to try.
The point is that the answers to these questions are clues. If we pay attention, they can lead us to something we may not have known we were missing.
I had no idea a little poet lived inside me. She’s delighted to be here, even if she only writes for herself.
I think of our wants as hot tracks – those little sparks of interest or energy that invite us to follow and see where they lead.
Curiosity can open doors to new interests or awaken sleeping dreams from years gone by.
An eagerness to contribute can reveal new ways to use gifts and talents we once brought to the workplace. A desire to stay engaged can generate new energy. A longing for connection can nudge us toward other people.
Those journeys can begin simply by asking: What do I want?
But here’s where we can get stuck.
Most of the time our needs really are needs.
As we age, taking care of our health, maintaining financial security, and creating support around us matter. We can’t simply declare that at this stage of life we’re going to do only what we want.
That probably wouldn’t serve us very well, either.
But after a lifetime in which need so often got the deciding vote, we mustn’t dismiss want as the lightweight in the room.
Maybe that’s part of what it means to continue becoming. Even now – especially now – we aren’t done discovering what fits us.
What mattered 10 years ago may not matter in quite the same way today. What we once needed may have loosened its grip. And something we’ve quietly wanted for years may finally deserve our attention.
Retirement doesn’t ask us to choose between wants and needs once and for all. It gives us an opportunity to listen more carefully to both.
And perhaps to ask a better question:
What do I need now – and which of my wants deserve more room?
Have you followed a “hot track” that led you somewhere unexpected? Is there something you’ve quietly wanted that might now deserve a little more room?