Retiring Gently, Not Abruptly

How do you want to retire?

I don’t want to retire when I’m tired. I want to retire when I’m ready.

Full, not finished.

I think about retirement sometimes. Not in spreadsheets or pension plans—but in colours and feelings.

I don’t want to retire because a calendar says so. Or because the world has decided it’s time for me to slow down. I want to retire when I feel full. When the season inside me changes, and I’m ready to loosen my grip on the routine.

I want to retire with a body that still feels like mine. Healthy enough to walk, to pack a bag, to climb a hill if I feel like it.

I want knees that still have stories left in them, and a back that lets me sleep without complaint.

And time—oh, I want time. Not the rushed kind, but the long, stretchable kind.

Time to sit by a window in a city I don’t know.

Time to taste unfamiliar food and not compare it to what I’m used to.

Time to miss flights because I was too busy watching a street performance or buying a local scarf I didn’t need.

But more than anything, I want to retire with a sense of ease.

I want to step away from work like you leave a party you’ve enjoyed—satisfied, not exhausted.

I want to feel that I’ve said what I needed to say, done what I needed to do.

That I’ve contributed in ways that mattered, even if quietly.

And when I walk into that next chapter, I hope I do it lightly.

No bitterness, no clinging.

Just gratitude—and a small backpack.

Because life doesn’t stop after retirement.

Sometimes, it just begins again.

But slower, softer, and somehow… freer.