Nadine J Walters – My Life

Question for today: Have you met anyone interesting lately?

Answer:
Well, yes, I have—actually. While I didn’t just meet this person, our dogs have been playing together in the park’s dog group for a while now. Until today, though, we hadn’t really had a one-on-one conversation. This morning, we took different walking routes that happened to converge, giving us a chance to talk—just the two of us.

It’s funny how these things unfold. I’d always sensed that this woman and I were somewhat alike, but as we talked, it became clear just how much we have in common—and how natural and easy it felt to connect.

In just a short while, we talked about retirement and the adjustments it brings. The feelings of being lost or without purpose. The challenge of filling your days with meaning after years of doing and producing. We also touched on lighter things—like dog groomers and good places to get a haircut. It was a little bit of everything.

I think I can call her my new friend. She’s working her way through retirement, and it’s clearly been tough for her. Letting go of structure and identity tied to work can be painful. I’ve been there. I shared that, for me, part of the journey has been accepting that it’s okay not to be productive in the traditional sense. You are being productive—just in a different way. Taking time for yourself is doing something.

I told her how, for so long, people put me in a box based on what I did—not who I truly was. Only recently have I slowed down enough to ask myself what I really want. And the answer has been surprisingly simple: I like staying home. I like slow mornings, dog walks, and a daily cold plunge. I’m doing things that bring me peace and joy—not things others expect of me.

Looking back, I made career choices based on what others thought was best. I even started teaching yoga because people encouraged me to. And while it served its purpose for a time, I’m so happy not to be living on someone else’s timeline anymore. I almost feel like a little brat admitting that—but honestly, at almost 72, it feels incredible to finally let me shine through.

Forgive the tangent—back to my new friend. She’s struggling. A little depressed. She’s always been a “doer,” and now she doesn’t have the desire to do. I didn’t want to offer too much advice, but I gently encouraged her to embrace the stillness. She mentioned a few projects she “should” start—but none were urgent. I told her to wait until they called to her. There was more to our conversation, but that was the heart of it.

These days, once I catch the spark for something, my momentum kicks in and I can’t stop. I hope I was able to pass along just a bit of that “being” energy to her—something to gently nudge her into her next chapter. And selfishly, I hope I get to see more of her. It’s rare and special to make a new friend at this stage in life—and I’m grateful for the possibility.