To be honest, I cheated and got an early start. I retired at fifty-eight and decided to move to the Philippines. I filled up one suitcase, stuck my laptop into a carry-on bag, and called a taxi for the airport. Whatever doldrums that retirement had in store for me was gone and I haven’t looked back.

Life after sixty was going to be about learning about life again: living in a new culture without my normal safety nets; immersion in a new world, new people and unknown challenges; and definitely no guarantees. It was not a new feeling, I had the same butterflies in the stomach as a Peace Corps volunteer entering the backwoods of Colombia over thirty years ago.

Yeah, it’s scary. But it sure made me feel alive, and there was something secure about feeling insecure again … if that makes any sense.