UnRetiring: The surprising stories of a new generation

A year ago this month, I "retired" from my lifelong career in newspapers. I left filled with the anxiety common to my generation.

What would I do? Who would I be?

Like a move to a new city, people said, "Give it two years. You're in transition."

To what? And why wait?

I decided to do what journalists do: I began to interview others who were going through what I was going through – the transition from career to what I call the "next great thing."

And because I cringe at the word "retired," I called my blog "UnRetiring."

This new stage of life is in the spotlight now. It's new because so many people are living healthy so much longer. Just as adolescence now seems to stretch to age 30 or so, "middle age" is creeping into Medicare land. And it's exploding because the Boomers, the oldest of whom are 66, are now stepping into it.

Over the year, I have been surprised by the ways people are reinventing themselves as well as by their range of emotions.

I've talked with people who feel guilty if they're not somehow contributing to bettering the world. And others who feel totally guilt-free, thrilled to be mostly just improving themselves. I've learned how much harder it is to enter this stage of life if you were forced out of the old one through a downsizing; the ego bruising lingers on. And I've laughed a lot, learning about late love affairs and unlikely leaps.

Speaking of leaps, I've been advised to be mindful of plunging in and to learn to say "no." Instead, in exploration mode, I've said "yes" to almost every idea that's come my way, creating exhaustion and exhilaration.

The number of people who worry for years about leaving their careers, even as they crave doing so, surprised me. I don't know why it surprised me, since I endlessly had the same debate with myself – until I finally left, after 30 years at The Philadelphia Inquirer. .

Once on the other side, I found that organizations have sprung up around the country to help people who want meaning in their lives find ways to do so. And I've also found people in transition eager to talk-- one on one, in small living room groups, and through this blog.

Today, in the first installment for philly.com, I'll share the story of Rick Cooper, a New Hampshire locksmith I met by chance one dark and dreary night:

Rick Rescues the Damsel in Distress

Rick Cooper rescued me. And he plans to keep on rescuing folks for quite some time. Maybe until he's 125 years old.

At an age when many are kicking back, Rick has returned to a childhood hobby -- playing with locks.

We're not talking hair.

It was about 10.30 p.m. on a dark and fortunately not stormy night when Rick Cooper showed up in my life. I was alone and upset, standing outside a rural New Hampshire condo, my key spinning around uselessly in the lock. Where would I go? Where would I sleep? What about all the ice cream in my car?

Rick, of Gate Keeper Lock Safe, pulled up, a headlamp attached to his forehead and an arsenal of break-in devices in his truck. When no amount of jiggling would work, this white-haired gentleman took out his toughest drill bits and blasted away.

The next day, back with new locks, he told me about his life transition.

For many years, he had worked as manager of recycling for Walpole, N.H., where he pioneered markets for small towns that had until then been dumping.

Then, at 65 1/2, he came up for retirement. "I knew that I could not go home and just do home projects. I had lots of them -- still have lots of them—but 18 months to two years later, I knew I would get footloose and fancy free," grabbing "the first thing that came down the road and get into a mess of trouble."

So he wanted a plan. Hearing about a one-man locksmith shop for sale, he realized, "This was something I always wanted to do. Even as a kid."

Three years later, he's grown the business to five, including himself and two other locksmiths on the road.

"Let me tell you my philosophy," he said. "I'm middle aged. I believe that I will live to about 125. The reason I believe that? When I was young, 65 or 70 was genuinely old and 100 was so old it was hardly heard about," he explained. "Today, 100 is nothing!

"There's no reason in the world why we can't at least shoot for 125.

Rick's wife retired from teaching last week. The job had become a lot less fun. Rick's not sure what she will do for all those many years that he is convinced are awaiting them.

Read past interviews and get a glimpse of Dotty Brown's own transition over the past year at www.unRetiring.blogspot.com