When I was 27, I did the most privileged-millennial thing possible:
My friends and colleagues laughed incredulously when I told them. They’d ask, “No, really, what are you going to do next?” And I’d tell them, “Nothing. I have no plans.”
But while I had no future plans, I had been planning this step for the past five years, ever since I started my corporate career. I’d even come up with a name for it:
Unlike real retirees, I hadn’t saved enough to cover me for the rest of my life, so it wasn’t a true retirement. I also didn’t want to just play golf, hang out somewhere warm, and drink wine. And I hated bingo.
I just knew I needed an indefinite break to decide if the path I was going down was the one I wanted to continue on.
That was six years ago.
Turns out I ended up doing a whole lot more than nothing during that time. I factory reset, reconstructed, ad-ventured, and stumbled into a money-making non-job I love.
And somehow I have twice as many savings as I did when I pretired.
In other words…
Like many retirees, the first thing I did after pretiring was travel.
And, let me tell you, traveling when you’re pretired is the best.
You have no obligations, no upcoming deadlines, and plenty of money, so you can go wherever and do whatever for as long as you want, worry-free. And you don’t need to pack a laptop.
For six post-pretirement months, I explored the jungles, mountains, and beaches of South America, hopped from one friend’s place to another in Switzerland, France, Spain, Germany, and the Netherlands, toured my friends around Panama, and spent my first carefree summer in hometown Vancouver since my early teens.
By the end, my mind felt like a computer that had been factory reset. The junk had been cleaned out and I never felt fresher.
I settled down in Vancouver to figure out what to do next.
With nothing but time on my hands, I got around to things that I “didn’t have time for” during my working days:
Putting My Money to Work
The costliest mistake of my life was not putting my money to work for me while I was working. I just stuffed my savings into a checking account and let them slowly deflate. Worst of all, Finance was my profession!
I could have 50% to 100% more savings today had I put my money to work for me starting from my first paycheck.
But better late than never. Pretirement gave me the time to get my financial act together. I wasn’t working so my money had to work extra hard for me.
And did it ever! Thanks to fortunate timing and patience, my savings grew faster than they did when I was working.
Read Millionaire Teacher to get comfortable with investing and to learn it doesn’t have to be complicated. And don’t dilly-dally!
Embracing the Simple Life
Being tight with my money (friends would say “cheap”) allowed me to pretire in the first place, but I had to tighten up a couple more notches to keep my pretirment going indefinitely.
These financial “sacrifices” turned out to be super rewarding:
- Being careful with what I bought enabled me to get by with way less crap that I enjoyed way more (like merino wool).
- Ditching the expensive gym to work out outside made my body and mind feel better than ever.
- Hosting dinner parties rather than going out for expensive meals turned out being way more fun and friendship-forging.
- Traveling to one place and getting to know it deeply rather than bouncing across the surface from one city to the next led to more memorable experiences.
I used to believe this was hippy nonsense—stuff people without money used to justify their inability to afford anything else. But they were right.
This gave me the freeing realization that I could thrive on much less than I once thought.
Getting an Extreme Self-Makeover
Another pretirement realization: I wasn’t the hot shit I thought I was during my corporate career. I was full of it.
Pretirement gave me the time and freed up my mental energy so I could fix my shit: self-assess, study, and experiment.
- Started eating healthier and way less frequently.
- Changed my fitness routine to build a useful, long-lasting body rather than a show-off-y one.
- Valued my time more by logging everything I do.
- Dove into new hobbies like writing and photography.
- Most importantly, learned how not to be a self-centered prick (not as much of one, at least).
Healthier, happier, and more financially stable than ever, I was eager to put my new powers to work.
Knowing I eventually needed to work again, but without strict time pressure to earn money from it, I followed my interests and unexpected opportunities into various (ad-)ventures:
- Taxi Man. I followed my hate of cars and traffic to get really into the future of urban transport. This led me to nearly managing Uber in Vancouver, pitching a publicly-managed ride-sharing app to City Hall, and, most improbably, interviewing to be GM of Vancouver’s largest taxi company.
- Blueberry Baron. An acquaintance from my old company called me out of the blue (literally, as you’ll see..) with the most random request: Could I find and ship 40 tons of frozen blueberries to Mexico City? I had no idea where to start, but I somehow made it happen! This led to a brief, lucrative, and eventually litigious tenure as co-owner of a Mexican import-export business.
- Bug Guy. My interest in healthy, sustainable food led a friend and me down a worm-hole to the crazy idea of making protein powder and a coconut oil alternative out of insects fed on food scraps. We got a government grant, got invited to an accelerator, and got partnerships with bug farms… but never got off the ground.
- Hostelier. I accepted an invite to be part of an unlikely triumvirate with my mom and my brother’s friend, buy a property in an up-and-coming outdoor adventure destination near Vancouver, and turn it into a hostel.
None of these ad-ventures proved to be worth permanently ending my pretirement for, but they were way more rewarding and educational than what I was doing pre-pretirement.
And they led me down a path toward the perfect non-job I never would have imagined myself doing…
The Perfect Non-Job
The perfect non-job is what you’re looking at right now. This blog.
My 27-year-old pre-pretirement would be horrified.
I hated English in school, never wrote anything more than emails, never designed anything more than PowerPoint presentations, didn’t own a camera, and had no interest marketing. And I wanted to be rich.
But my pretirement ad-ventures taught me otherwise.
That’s the magic of pretirement. It enabled me to stumble into living by the cliché, “Find a job you enjoy doing, and you will never have to work a day in your life.”
Blogging’s not lucrative nor impressive, but who cares? I’m helping some people, I’ve realized I don’t need much money, my financial situation’s stronger than ever anyway, and so is my health and my mind.
Worse comes to worse, I can always pretire again.
Should You Have a Pretirement Plan?
I know I’m lucky to be one of a small minority of people fortunate enough to have been able to pretire, but I also know there are many more people who should do the same but are afraid to try.
Ask yourself this:
If you pretired, did a factory reset, reconstructed, and pursued ad-ventures, how likely is it you’d regret it and crawl back to your current job?
If you’re not sure, you might want to consider making a pretirement plan.
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