When I was 30, the age of 50 felt a long way off. Like somewhere on the other side of my life. When I was 40, I was too busy juggling family and work to think a decade ahead, but I recall that being over 50 was a time when people worked before retirement, then before moving into old age and death. Until suddenly, I was 49. Not only did I have three children still firmly at home, but I had experienced a traumatic career disruption and it was dawning on me that I was now firmly in mid-life, potentially with many decades of life and work ahead.

For the first time in my life, at the age of 65, I had no idea what I was going to do next. For a few years prior, I had looked forward to being able to slow down and enjoy life. That day would come when I exited the business I had set up with my son, and sold, in 2020. The problem was, I had no transition plan. I suddenly found myself anchorless and in a sea of confusion, about to be unemployed.