Gibson

Sorting Nails Into Boxes

At the weekend I took my first motorbike trip since 2018. I caught the boat to Scotland, then rode along the Queensway through the Galloway Forest, over towards Hexham, and then followed the Pennines down into the Lake District to meet an old friend. Gorgeous roads, great weather – time to explore and take in the scenery.

On the crossing over, though, I ended up sat near two retired couples, clearly old pals heading off for a long weekend together. At one point the wives went up to fetch coffee. The moment they were out of earshot, one of the husbands leaned across to the other and said, “I’m so bored.”

He used to read the papers every morning, he said. He doesn’t anymore. He couldn’t tell his friend a single thing he’d done with his day, only that somehow he’d had no time to do it. Then he mentioned that the previous evening he’d gone out to his old work van and spent it sorting his tools and his nails into separate boxes.

That was Saturday.

By Sunday I’d heard that another good friend, recently retired and six months into a world trip, had decided to cut the travel short and take on a full-time role. He told me he was hugely excited about it – couldn’t wait to start.

And last week, a client I’d been with – retired from his main career – told me about the part-time job he’d taken on. Not for the money. He tapped the side of his head: it was good for his mental health to be around people, and to feel he was contributing something of value.

Three different men. Three very different decisions. One thread running through them.

We tend to talk about retirement as a destination – the moment the work stops and the freedom begins. For some clients, that’s exactly how it plays out. For many others, it’s more complicated. The money side can be solved on a spreadsheet. The harder question is what fills the days, who you spend them with, and where your sense of purpose is going to come from.

It’s the question I find myself asking more and more in client meetings, because I think it’s the one that matters most. Financial independence gives you the option not to work. It doesn’t tell you what to do instead.

If you’re approaching that transition – or you’re in it and finding it less straightforward than you’d hoped – it’s worth talking through. A good plan should account for the life you actually want to live, not just the income that funds it.