Your brother just retired and ran out of things to do by month two. Your sister-in-law finally has time for the garden she talked about for twenty years.
Your kids are calling you for advice now, not the other way around. Sometimes they take it.
Your oldest friend just became a first-time grandparent. Your business partner is watching his grandkid graduate as a US Marine.
A cousin sold his company and can't figure out what mornings are for now. A former boss merged his into something bigger and calls it the best decision he ever made.
Your mentor just got his hip replaced. Your college roommate just ran the Boston Marathon.
Your parents, if they're still around, need you the way you needed them once.
Walking away from the thing you built feels like an empty calendar before it feels like freedom. It stays empty until you decide what to fill it with, or who to hand it to.
Still in circulation
A former colleague still runs a task your way and has stopped mentioning where it came from.
A line you gave a stranger once is still being repeated.
You started writing the manual a while back. This is the decade you notice.
And you? What is worth gearing up for?
Sixty is for refiring. The aiming is the hard part.
That question has a related book
