Hey pal,

In a funk about retirement?

Nothing more natural – or less necessary. I was too – a decade ago – then whoosh – the best years of my life. No kidding – no sugaring lemons into lemonade – the best. And I didn’t see it coming. I was done – grumpy – moribund – and now? Well, you know. Peppy as Junior playing hooky. Maybe not clam-happy – that’s not my nature – you and I are as susceptible to depression as to the flu – but gladder than ever to be alive.

You can be too. But you’ve got to go for it. You can’t just sit there feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve heard me sing-song – Sadness is not our fate but our fault. That’s not always true – but it’s true enough to keep saying it, especially when you’re down. So fasten your seatbelt, here’s my pep talk. And you’ve got to read it to the end – because I wrote it for you!

Retirement isn’t a fact but an opinion. Only you can put yourself on the shelf. So, your pay-the-bills feather-the-nest career is finished – congratulations! Now for your real life to begin.

What will it be? NOT more of the same. More of the same will feel like less. The comparison diminishes you. For sure, don’t let it be golf, unless you’ve never messed with the game. If you’re a newbie, no worries, all good. But if you were OK back in the day, you’ll get worse as the years tick. Same with any activity that’s body-dependent – sex, say. Your best days are past and that’s that. Move on.

On to what? Something new. Forget about the money – you’ve got enough – and if you leave less to the kiddoes, tough, that’s their lookout. Not enough to be a philanthropist? Well, thank your stars for that. Folks with a bundle are incessantly courted by sycophants, a.k.a. “development officers,” who flatter your wits while feeling for your wallet. Empty calories, relation-wise. Hang out with folks who value you as you. Or with nobody, if that’s your preference (the charms of solitude are undersold). Best yet, get a dog. (Our Henry, dripping over his sleep chair, grunts approval.)

Jane and I, as you know, went to Rome. That was a brainstorm and a Godsend. In a foreign country – for four years! – wrangling Italian – fluency in a new language is improbable past sixty – seeing new sites – figuring new stuff out – we were learning every day and didn’t have a moment to fritter on regret. I was never sad in Italy – isn’t that amazing? Sadness, as Henry keeps reminding me, is a comparative state; if you don’t remember, you don’t regret.

Think big – “the lift of a driving dream” (love that phrase, even though a Nixon speechwriter coined it). You cannot fail – because you’ve already succeeded. Oldsters are gloriously freed from the yoke of expectation. Sure, we’re condescended to – not bad for an old guy – but so what?

Do not neglect the Internet. No matter that you hobble, the world comes to you. The whole world. For any interest or activity imaginable, you can locate virtual mates with a few clicks. I thought nobody liked the sort of stuff I liked and now, yikes, I’ve got twenty thousand pen pals, increasing at a rate of hundreds a week. Nobody needs that much society – but it’s heartening, invigorating, the conversation.

“This above all” – don’t I sound like windy Polonius? – make your life about tomorrow, not yesterday. Focus on what you can do, not what you can’t. Abundance and scarcity are verdicts not facts. The fullness of your life is up to you.