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Breaking Free: Detoxing Your Mind after the 9-to-5 ends.

So here we are I am racing into month six of being officially retired.


Things have been really busy.


I know you are reading that, saying, “Umm, but you are retired Glen.”


Well, my dance card filled right up, and fast!


But let's take a step back to October 1, 2025.


I never thought I’d find myself scheduling my own day like a staff meeting.


Yet there I was, at 6 a.m., resisting the urge to check my email and still feeling like my administrative assistant should be walking in with my calendar and briefing book for the day.


It hit me then: decades of adapting to policies, acronyms, and rigid schedules had wired my brain into a constant state of risk management and over-planning.


Retirement, I realized, wasn’t just about leaving work behind; it was about breaking free from the mental clutter that came with it.


If you’re nearing retirement or already there, you might recognize this feeling.


The challenge isn’t just about filling your time but about unlearning habits that no longer serve you.


I had to start a mental and behavioral detox.


For years, my mornings began with a ritual: grab the phone, open the inbox, and scan for urgent messages.


It was automatic, like brushing my teeth. Not doing it made it feel like part of the morning was not complete, that something important might need my attention.


It felt like a leash pulling me back into work mode.


One morning, I caught myself reaching for the phone at 6 a.m. and then I paused.


Why?


There was no boss waiting for a reply, no crisis demanding immediate attention. 


What was I doing?


You may ask, "Heck, why were you even up at 6 a.m.” Glen


Fair question. I ‘ve always been an early riser.   


Back to the phone.


Breaking this habit took conscious effort.


I replaced the email check with other things: taking a morning walk, weather permitting.


The fresh air and quiet streets reminded me that my time was mine.


Getting back to working out, Project Glen was overdue.


Working on projects I had been meaning to start and of course thinking about what the “what’s next” pieces of life might be.


It took several months, if I am honest, but the urge to check emails faded, replaced by a sense of calm and presence. 


My days became more focused, slow, intentional, and gratifying.


This helped to get rid of another habit: how I planned my days. I found myself, at first, blocking out time for tasks with the precision of a project manager:  


It felt oddly familiar, oddly comforting, like I was running a one-person company with a strict agenda.


I quickly asked myself, "Why waste the mental energy doing that?"


Just put important things on the schedule and let everything else go with the flow each day.


I started experimenting with a looser approach: setting intentions instead of fixed times.


For example, I’d decide to spend the morning outdoors without specifying exactly when or where.


This shift allowed me to follow my energy and interests rather than a preset timetable.


One of the most liberating moments came when I looked at my Harley.


For years, I’d treated it like a project: schedule a ride when time allowed. It felt like I was managing a work asset instead of enjoying a passion.


I decided to take the bike out without any agenda—no timeline. Just the open road and the wind.


That ride reminded me what freedom really feels like. The Harley didn’t need a project plan; it needed me to show up and enjoy the moment.


Show up and enjoy the moment; it's worth repeating.


Retirement offers a unique chance to reset your mental habits.


The acronyms, policies, and risk-averse mindset that served me well in a career can become mental chains if carried forward.


The hardest part of this detox is shifting your mindset.


After decades of adapting to policy, rules, and risk avoidance, it feels strange to embrace possibility without a safety net.


But that’s exactly what retirement invites us to do.


Once you adjust, life seems to open up.


Once that freedom infects your mind and creeps into your soul, it is hard to think about how you ever had time for a job.


Over the last six months, we have traveled a lot and spent far more time with family and friends, embracing quality time together.


Started doing the “once we are retired” things you talk about doing “someday.”


And in the grand scheme of things, we only get so many “somedays.”, so do not waste them.


It didn’t take long at all for bicycle rides, hikes, bowling, golfing, traveling, and just catching up on taking care of myself and making time for those I love and cherish to fill my hours and days.


Sometimes it makes me wish I had made this change sooner.


It takes a real conversation with yourself.


You don’t need a project plan for your life anymore.


You don’t need to check emails at dawn or schedule every minute.

Instead, you get to explore what freedom means to you.


It might be a slow morning with coffee and a book, an unplanned road trip on your Harley, or simply sitting quietly and watching the world go by.


After decades of adapting to policy, procedures, and risk avoidance, it takes time to relearn something much simpler: how to follow possibility instead of schedules.


The funny thing about getting your time back is that it doesn’t stay empty for long.


Once the mental clutter clears, life has a way of filling the space with things that matter far more than meetings and email chains ever did.


Sometimes it’s a quiet morning walk.


Sometimes it’s an unplanned ride on the Harley.


And sometimes it’s the chance to create a memory with people you love that simply would not have been possible before.


That realization hit me not long ago in a way I didn’t expect.


But that’s a story for another day.


Next: The story I mentioned… and a phone call that led to an unexpected cruise.


I wrote this Knowing how truly blessed I am!





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