I Wish I had More Time to Do Nothing
And why I’m glad I don’t
There is a hammock in my backyard that I don’t spend nearly enough time in.
On a fall afternoon, it may be my favorite place to be. I can stretch out under the trees, watch the clouds drift by, listen to the birds, and feel the breeze move through the yard.
Nothing to accomplish. Nowhere I need to be.
And almost every time I’m there, I have the same thought:
I wish I had more time for this.
Which is a funny thing to say in retirement.
Wasn’t this supposed to be the season when I finally had all the time in the world?
But the truth is, I don’t spend more afternoons in the hammock because there are so many other things I want to do. Not things I have to do. Things I get to do.
There are stories I want to write. Places I want to go. People I want to spend time with. New things I want to learn. Old things I finally have time to enjoy.
Somewhere along the way, retirement has become much fuller than I ever expected.
Maybe that’s the surprise of this season.
The goal was never really to have nothing to do.
It was to have more freedom to choose what fills the day.
“Maybe the goal of retirement isn’t having nothing to do. Maybe it’s having more freedom to choose what fills the day.”
Still Bearing Fruit
“They will still thrive and bear fruit and prosper in old age; They will flourish and be vital and fresh [rich in trust and love and contentment].”
I love the picture in that verse.
Still thriving. Still bearing fruit.
Still learning.
Not finished. Not fading into the background. Still growing, creating, contributing, learning, loving, and becoming.
Rich in trust and love and contentment.
Retirement may give us the opportunity to flourish in ways we couldn’t before.
For decades, so much of our time is spoken for—jobs, raising families, mortgages, schedules, deadlines, people depending on us. All the while, we’re gaining wisdom, experience, skills, perspective, and a clearer sense of what matters.
Then retirement changes the equation.
Suddenly, we have more say in how we use all that has been gathered over a lifetime.
“Retirement may give us the opportunity to flourish in ways we couldn’t before.”
And fruitfulness doesn’t always look like work.
Sometimes it looks like writing a book. Sometimes it’s showing up for someone you love. Sometimes it’s learning something new, serving somewhere meaningful, or finally pursuing an idea that has been waiting quietly in the background.
And sometimes it’s an afternoon in the hammock, simply enjoying the life God has given you.
Plan for More Than Your Finances
We spend years preparing financially for retirement. We think about savings, healthcare, where we’ll live, and whether we’ll have enough.
Those things matter.
But there’s another kind of planning worth doing too:
Who am I becoming in this season, and what has God uniquely equipped me to do with it?
Retirement can create something we may not have had in years—space.
Space to think. Space to listen. Space to notice the gifts, experiences, and passions God has been shaping in us over a lifetime.
And our purpose in retirement may be bigger than simply “help with the grandkids” or “stay busy.”
What are your spiritual gifts? What have people consistently come to you for? What skills did you develop through decades of work, family, ministry, hardship, or simply living? Where do you feel most alive? Who could benefit from what you now know?
The answers may look different at 65 than they did at 35. The gift itself may not have changed, but the way you use it can.
Leadership might become mentoring. Hospitality might mean opening your home more often. Teaching could move from a classroom to a Bible study, a grandchild, or a younger friend. Encouragement might look like showing up for someone who needs a steady presence.
And creativity may finally have room to become the book, garden, music, art, or project you never had time to pursue.
Retirement gives us a rare opportunity to ask not only:
“What do I want to do with my time?”
but also:
“God, what have You been preparing me to do with this season?”
“The gift itself may not have changed. The way you use it can.”
Maybe that’s why these years can be so productive without feeling productive.
We’re no longer doing more because someone expects it from us.
We’re choosing what matters.
We can write a book. Learn something new. Take a trip. Have lunch with someone on a Tuesday. Volunteer. Spend an afternoon with a grandchild. Start something we have no intention of monetizing.
Or simply be present enough to notice our own lives.
Guard This Time
And maybe that’s exactly why this season is worth guarding.
Retirement comes with an interesting assumption: if you’re not working, you must be available.
You’re retired. You have time.
And technically, that’s true.
But I’m learning there’s a difference between having time and having time that’s available for someone else to fill.
An open afternoon doesn’t automatically need an assignment. A blank square on the calendar isn’t necessarily an invitation. And saying no to one thing may simply make room to say yes to something that matters more.
That doesn’t mean we stop helping, serving, showing up, or being generous with our time.
It means we get to be thoughtful about where we spend it.
“There’s a difference between having time and having time that’s available for someone else to fill.”
Because maybe one of the greatest gifts of retirement isn’t simply having more time.
It’s having more choice about what we do with it.
And every now and then, that choice may be an afternoon in the hammock—watching the clouds drift by and being perfectly content to do nothing at all.
Continue the Journey
If this story encouraged you, I’d love for you to continue the journey with me.
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