Redefining Quitting

Retirement Musings

Photo by Jackson Simmer on Unsplash

“Never quit.” “You may be in the Valley of Despair, but you’re at the midpoint and just as close to success as starting over.” “Keep going, you’ll see signs of success.”

Who doesn’t admire persistence and perseverance? I admit, I used to find these kinds of platitudes motivating, but lately, they feel more like directives than encouragement.

I used to think persistence was required for success — getting through the project, hitting the finish line, not letting the bastards get me down, meeting the deadline, earning the title. And I think it was required then. But life changes, and I’ve learned that persistence doesn’t always lead to success — at least, not how I now define success. In fact, at times, it has even interfered with my ability to see success clearly.

As I’ve navigated my time in retirement, I’ve given myself the freedom to explore new pursuits that felt appealing and reasonably feasible. And it has certainly been a journey. I looked into consulting in the same field I spent my career in (nope), volunteered for a non-profit board (not what I’d hoped), and pursued coaching (loved the objective, but the business side wasn’t for me). Each decision to quit was difficult. Was I giving up too soon? Avoiding hard work? Would reaching the finish line make me feel better? But what was the finish line anyway? Was quitting just failing?

All these questions led me to a bigger realization for the first time: Should I always blindly push through the Valley of Despair and never quit?

Maybe the “just do it” mentality works for certain things — the kind we know are good for us even if we don’t enjoy them (yes, I’ll get to my elliptical workout today). But now, as someone reshaping my landscape and trying to decide where best to commit my time, I’ve entered an entirely new terrain that isn’t just about persistence but reflection. In this new phase, the familiar rules that once guided me and brought me where I wanted to be don’t always apply, and the new ones aren’t always clear. The old formula — effort + determination (+ a bit of luck) = success — no longer feels certain.

Now, the Valley of Despair isn’t just a challenge to push through — it’s a reflection point, a realization that only emerged for me later in life. And it prompts me to ask: Am I truly committed, or am I simply continuing out of habit? Does this path still make sense?

Sometimes doubt is more than discomfort — it’s a signal worth considering. Quitting isn’t always failure; sometimes, it’s a recalibration toward a better-aligned goal.

I’ve come to see success differently — not as a finish line to cross, but as a space where meaning is found in the doing, not just the finishing. And quitting? It isn’t necessarily failure; it’s about clarity.