Nothing To Do

I went to bed last night, and just before drifting off, a thought crossed my mind: I don’t have to do anything tomorrow. Nothing on my agenda, nothing demanding my attention.

I took a long, satisfying breath, let it out in a sigh, and fell asleep with a smile tucked away in my heart.

I awoke at 5:25 this morning. I blinked at the early light, and a simple thought floated up: Why am I awake? There’s nothing to get up for. Go back to sleep. So I did, letting that quiet peace pull me right back in.

At 8:25, I stirred again, but this time, the silence came with a question: What will I do today? A whole day stretched out, with no obligations and no clock to race against. And the truth of it hit me: I’m retired. I have nothing to do.

Forty years of work, always something on my plate—multiple jobs at times, mostly in finance. Forty years of the steady grind, the stress, the daily hustle. And now? I’ve left it behind. No more meeting demands or measuring up to numbers. I’ve got enough saved to live comfortably, but too much energy to sit around doing nothing.

From Grind to Stillness

After the realization settled in, I kissed the purring cat good morning, stretched out of bed, and started my usual routine. I got the kettle going, but before my tea was ready, I spotted some crumbs on the counter from the night before and wiped them clean. It felt oddly satisfying. The kettle whistled, and soon, I was sitting at my desk in my office with my tea in hand.

I checked my emails. Nothing important.  Weather report? Sunny skies ahead. Overnight news? Nothing I hadn’t expected. I simply sat there for a moment, letting the quiet surround me, feeling like I’d stepped into a new chapter.

Then, bit by bit, my “nothing” day started filling up. There was a load of laundry waiting for me. The couch blankets needed washing, and the hummingbird feeders—cleaned weeks ago—were still empty. A glance around the room landed on my hand weights, untouched. I promised myself I’d get into a workout routine once I retired. Then, I thought about the Spanish lessons I’d bought but hadn’t started. And there was that book club meeting on Monday—the one I hadn’t finished reading for.

Before I knew it, the calm, empty day had packed itself with things to do. Small things, manageable, sure, but all reminders of life.

A New Kind of Busy

So here I am, on what I thought would be a wide-open day, realizing that "nothing to do" is a bit of an illusion. Retirement isn’t about having nothing—it’s about choosing your own pace, setting your priorities, learning how to shape time when time is entirely your own, and maybe even enjoying the chaos of it.

It’s nearly lunchtime, and my day’s already in full swing. It’s busy, yes, but in a way that I control. And that, right there, feels like the best kind of freedom.

- J.S. Whaldo