Image: Jennika Argent/Alamy

What comes next in life? Advice from a book for teens.

You don’t expect to feel lost at age 71. Yet here many of us are, staring down the future like a teenager without a plan.

It boils down to feeling at a loss when we ask ourselves, “What now?”

We’re not kids. We’ve raised kids, built careers, survived marriages. But with many of those things in the rear-view mirror, how do we keep our lives from becoming diminished? No one hands us a guidebook.

Well, without actually meaning to, I sort of did. I wrote a book—Rethinking College: A Guide to Thriving Without a Degree—to encourage the teens and young adults who knew college wasn’t right for them and help them find work satisfaction. Because no one should have to live a second-rate life, and that includes you.

The funny thing is that as I went on the speaker circuit, one of the most commonly asked questions from parents and grandparents wasn’t about the kids. It was, “How about a book like this for us older people?”

Of course, some people prefer relaxing during these years. Reading, gardening, occasionally traveling. Doing what makes them happy to get up each morning—or sleep in.

But that’s not me. Life, in my eyes, is like strength training. If I don’t keep challenging myself, I’ll shrink in intellect, vibrancy, and vitality. Having spent my life in a demanding journalism career while raising three children, I want to try for the most adventurous and soul-satisfying years of my life.

The more than 100 people I interviewed for the book taught me that we don’t have to be geniuses or hugely talented or educated to thrive. What did all those people have in common? The chutzpah to follow their own path instead of convention.

Write Your Own Reinvention Story

Here are some suggestions that might open up your next chapter:

Go back to school—your way. Maybe AI has made your job disappear, or you’re a former SAHM who needs a source of income but doesn’t have the latest skills. Community colleges are the great overlooked resource for women like us. They’re flexible, open to part-time students, and offer a ton of online courses. It’s less intimidating than you might think to be the single head of white hair in a classroom of relative youngsters, and opening our minds to new ideas turns on buzzy neurons that we haven’t heard from in years.

With certificate programs and associate degrees, you don’t need to spend the rest of your life studying. Want to be an archaeologist? Do it. An archaeological field tech needs only a handful of courses to dig in the dirt. Interested in interior or clothing design, makeup artistry, shoeing horses, airline technician, or court reporting? The possibilities are endless. Choose your next path.

Volunteer like it’s a plot twist. Want to give back and take a leap forward? Don’t just volunteer—live it with residential gigs that often provide free room and board. Enrich the lives of developmentally disabled adults and learn biodynamic farming at the same time at one of the many Camphill communities. Or dig for dinosaur bones in North Dakota, preserve our national parks while bathing yourself in nature, find peace working at a retreat center, or even train rescue horses.

Reinvent yourself on a global scale. World travelers don’t have to be rich. You can work on organic farms around the world, teach English, or lead tours. Or if you already have a remote job, check out digital nomad visas in dozens of countries that let you live in a different culture—and sometimes it’s tax-deductible.

YOU Inc. You probably already have what it takes to start your own business, you just don’t realize it yet. Start a side hustle. Embrace the gig economy. You know how to cook, organize, sew, pet sit, teach, and screw together IKEA furniture like a pro. What not get paid? Social media is your gateway. Log in and start cashing out.

Time to Stop Dreaming. Do It.

And me? I’m taking my own advice. I’ve got a new writing gig, said yes to an archaeology dig, started working on a book with my firstborn, and am about to spend more time chasing grandbabies across the country. I’m exploring, curating, reinventing—sometimes making it up as I go. But isn’t that the point?

I’m claiming space. Living loud. And reminding myself every day: It’s not too late.

It never was.