I read this book in the first few months of retirement and enjoyed it. I’d recommend it to others. But like most non-fiction I’ve read, it could have been a short pamphlet rather than a book. I appreciate that there isn’t much of a commercial market for pamphlets, but still…

At the time I felt I was pretty well-versed in cutting down one’s life to just the essentials, given that the photos below capture my wardrobe and hobby space in the RV.

Regardless, I picked up some interesting tidbits.

During the first couple months of retirement, I experienced something that had occasionally plagued my free time at home while I was still working. I’d have the whole day (largely) free, but at the end of it I would struggle to articulate how I had spent my time. And honestly, there were plenty of work days like this too when urgent emails and conference calls ate up my time without allowing space for the important things. So despite my apparent material essentialism, it felt like there were things to learn.

And now, not quite two years after first borrowing the book, the biggest thing that’s stuck with me is to simplify my daily goals and to make time to focus on them. I started journaling regularly around the time of diagnosis and I have stuck with it. I find it incredibly helpful. And at the top of every entry I put one simple goal for the day. Something that’s realistic, aligned with my values, and to which I can hold myself accountable. Today’s goal? “Get back to basics: make sure I exercise and create.” After the travel up North where the heat dome gave way to intense wildfire smoke, we had to retreat back to Madison and the experience left us both feeling a little displaced. Now that the scrambling is behind us, it is time to move back toward those fitness and creativity goals.

At this point I very rarely wonder what I did that day. Because sometimes the assignment is just to “have a calm, quiet day,” and that’s well within reach.