Several years ago, when I began considering an early retirement, I was not too worried about being bored. I had already made the decisions that I wanted to spend much of my time working as a handyman, for myself and others. I also wanted to write. My bigger concern was the idea that I would no longer be doing work that made a difference in other people’s lives. That sense of making a difference was important to me in my work in the ministry years ago, and it was important in my work in the mental health field.

Sure, I could volunteer or find any number of good things to be involved in, but it was not the same. Being a psychologist was a choice I made, a choice to be involved with others in some very specific ways. I valued being invited into people’s lives and being entrusted with their thoughts, feelings, and motives. Particularly in my work with grieving clients, being a part of their experience at such a crucial time was important, even sacred to me. Recognizing that I was sometimes part of their change process was gratifying. I feared losing that sense of importance.

After several years, I have not given up my need to be important, but I have had to redefine what it meant to be important. I cannot, nor do I want to be in the full-time mental health field, or the ministry, or any other such profession. I still want to write, I want to be a handyman, I want to relax, I want to visit my kids in Illinois, I want to do lots of things, none of which involve the kind of importance that was part of my career for so many years.

My new definition of doing something “important” has involved two discoveries. First, I have been presumptuous. I am in no position to determine what is important and what is not. I have only a limited vantage point in evaluating who makes a difference and who doesn’t. I continue to let go of that kind of judgment about myself or others.

Second, since I have no business defining importance in comparison to others, I have to define “important” for myself. Doing something important now involves learning new things and putting those things into practice. Being important means being as fully present with my friends now as I was with my clients then, and learning as much from them as I did from my clients.

I have my writing to help me think and express those thoughts. I have my handyman work to turn something useless into something beautiful, to teach me patience for tedious tasks, courage for new and difficult ones, and wisdom to know when to call for help.

I have lots of things in my life that are important if I can pay attention to the moment. Paula D’Arcy writes, “God comes to us disguised as our life.” My willingness and openness to be mindful of my everyday, ordinary, confusing life is all I need to do.

Thomas Merton also speaks to me: “It seems to me that I have greater peace…when I am not trying to be contemplative or trying to be anything special, but simply orienting my life fully and completely towards what seem to be required of a person like me at a time like this.”

Well, that pretty well says it all.