It's not retirement. It's just not working at my career job any more, after next week. There are too many other possibilities for my life, and I'm ready to get started.

I made some schedule changes today. Moved a 40-hour class in basic mediation from August to November. Moved a four-day trip to Whistler from August to July. Reserved rooms at a water park resort instead of Disneyland. I could do all those things, because I'll no longer be bound by the number of vacation days taken and available. Such freedom!

I look at my calendar and see multiple trips - to San Antonio, Alaska, Maine, Italy, Utah and Mexico. When we're at home I see a daily commitment to an online ESL class. To nurturing the garden. To mowing our lawn instead of having a yard guy do it. To looking for the best self-publishing option for a piece I wrote in 2006 about returning with my husband Art to Vietnam in a journey of reconciliation and healing. To spending time with my grandchildren besides over long weekends. To reading and napping and chatting with neighbors.

Clearly, ending my career is not retiring from life. Anything but. I expect to be busier, more engaged in my life, now that it's so much more of my own choosing.

Earlier this year I spent time worrying about money, now that I won't be earning it. Somehow it's worked out, or it will. I think my Bag Lady fears grew from the grand expanse of the Unknown. What happens the first Monday after my worklife ends? Anything? Or everything?