Can you reinvent yourself if you don’t know what you’re reinventing for? Can you find purpose after retirement?

Purpose has been called life’s compass—the thing that guides us and pulls us forward. But for many women, finding purpose after retirement feels more like drifting into the Bermuda Triangle. Grandma Moses, who discovered her purpose at nearly 80, shows us that it’s possible to navigate out of the unknown and into something extraordinary. Her work became a global symbol of creativity and reinvention. Her story shows us that purpose is fluid, not fixed.

When we talk about retirement and reinvention, one question always surfaces: What is your purpose? Loaded question, right?

Let’s start here:

• What if I don’t have a clear purpose right now?

• Does purpose have to be grand, like saving the planet, or can it be intimate, like tending a garden or taking up painting? Can purpose be simple?

• Is it enough to crave joy or sleep in after four decades of work?

The internal struggle is real. As someone who has “repurposed” my skills in ways I never imagined, I understand how frustrating this dialogue can be. Society sells purpose as a monumental mission or a vague platitude like “follow your bliss.” Either way, it can leave you feeling adrift.

Why Your Purpose Changes as You Age

In our younger years, purpose often feels built into the chaos of life—we are bound within familial obligations, careers, and societal timeframes. But entering our late 50s and into our 60s, the guardrails are disappearing or gone: no packed schedules, no pressing deadlines. Suddenly, you’re untethered, but you can find a purposeful life after retirement.

A friend described it this way: “For years, I woke up knowing exactly why—kids, work, everything. Now, it feels like I’m staring into an empty room, wondering what to fill it with.” While there might be a sense of peace and agency that comes with a clear calendar, many women feel burdened by this newfound freedom.

Does Purpose Always Have to Be Grand?

This isn’t a new dilemma. Women across time have grappled with these questions. Virginia Woolf, writing in A Room of One’s Own, described how creative freedom can be as daunting as it is exhilarating. Woolf argued that true purpose comes from having the space to create meaning on our own terms. Freedom can be both an invitation and a challenge.

The pressure to define purpose as something big and bold—an ambitious “why” that reshapes the world—is an exhausting myth. Fortunately, contemporary psychologists like Martin Seligman remind us that purpose doesn’t have to be heroic. His work in positive psychology reframes purpose as something rooted in flourishing: feeling engaged, connected, and fulfilled.

Finding purpose after retirement, then, isn’t about saving the planet—it’s about finding meaningful ways to stay connected to it.

Sugaring Off, 1943, Grandma Moses

What Grandma Moses Teaches Us About Purpose and Reinvention

Consider the story of Anna Mary Robertson Moses, better known as Grandma Moses. Born in 1860, she spent most of her life as a farmer’s wife, raising children and running a household. She had no formal artistic training and didn’t even consider painting until her late 70s when arthritis made embroidery too painful. What started as a casual pastime soon evolved into something extraordinary.

Moses humble renderings of rural life caught the attention of collectors and critics. As she was approaching 80, she had her first major exhibition, and her fame took off. But what makes her story so remarkable isn’t just her success—it’s the fact that her purpose found her in the most unexpected way. Grandma Moses reminds us that purpose doesn’t have to be planned or grand; it can emerge from small, accidental beginnings. Moses was forced to pivot from her beloved embroidery and found an even deeper, richer purpose through her eighties and nineties.

How I Found My Purpose Through Trial and Error

For me, purpose has always been tied to impact. As a serial reinventor, I thrive on bold pivots. But I felt adrift when I sold my consulting company four years ago. I kept asking myself: What now? What followed was three years of trial and error. I tested ideas, floundered, and reflected. I thought a new purpose would present itself as it had before. Over time, a pattern emerged: my passions and possibilities aligned in unexpected places.

Things finally clicked—I would use my own stories and experience building businesses to create a digital magazine for women like me. It felt daunting enough to challenge me, but it was also perfectly aligned with my skills. Today, I wake up excited and energized by this new chapter.

Purpose rarely announces itself. It’s something you stumble upon, piece by piece, as you lean into what potential and possibility might await you.

Did I Use Up My Purpose? The ‘Used Up’ Myth Explained

After fifteen years as an educational consultant working with high school students, I felt rewarded every day. My purpose was clear, tangible, and deeply fulfilling. But when I sold my business, and started finding purpose after retirement, I started to wonder: Did I use up all my purpose? How could I find anything that matched what I had been doing?

I know I’m not alone on this one. Women with high-impact careers—teachers, doctors, business leaders—often fear their best days are behind them. A former teacher once told me, “Students have said I changed their lives. But now, without that feedback, I wonder—does my purpose even matter anymore?”

The answer is yes. Grandma Moses’ story illustrates this perfectly. She didn’t feel she had “used up” her creative potential because she hadn’t tapped into it yet. Her late-blooming success is a reminder that purpose isn’t finite—it evolves as we do over time.

How to Handle the Overwhelm of Too Many Options

For the first time in decades, many women in their 60s have the freedom to explore without obligation. But that freedom can feel daunting. A stay-at-home mom with grown children shared, “I have the time and resources to do anything, but I feel frozen. What if I pick the wrong thing?”

The truth? There’s no wrong thing. Purpose isn’t a test—it’s a practice.

Mel Robbins’ 5-Second Rule encourages small, immediate actions to push past inertia. Her mantra? “You don’t find purpose—you create it.”

Why Purpose After Retirement Can Be as Simple as Small Joys

Purpose doesn’t have to be grand. It can be as simple as:

• Savoring quiet mornings over coffee.

• Learning to garden or paint, just for the joy of it.

• Deepening friendships or mentoring someone.

Psychologists emphasize the power of flow states—those moments of immersion when time disappears. Whether you’re hiking, knitting, or cooking, these activities create pockets of joy and fulfillment.

Purpose After Retirement as a Living Concept

Author and NYU professor, Suzy Welch, describes purpose as a series of chapters that, “gallop in and gallop off with our lives.” What gave your life meaning at 40 won’t look the same at 60, and that’s okay.

One of my friends calls this her “little why.” She said, “I don’t have a grand mission anymore, and I’m fine with that. My purpose now is finding small joys and sharing them.”

This reminds me of Eleanor Roosevelt’s idea that life itself is about constant reinvention. She famously said, “You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” Purpose evolves. It doesn’t disappear; it adapts.

The Role of Connection in Finding Purpose After Retirement

Loneliness is one of the biggest challenges retirees face, and it’s deeply linked to a loss of purpose. But connection can change that void into meaning. The National Institute on Aging publishes research and reports that confirm that social engagement improves mental and physical health, especially for women. Whether joining a book club, volunteering, or checking on a neighbor, purpose thrives in connecting with friends and community.

Embracing the Unfolding Journey of Purpose

So, what’s your purpose? Maybe it’s mentoring. Perhaps it’s savoring quiet moments. Maybe it’s still unfolding.

The search for purpose doesn’t have to feel like a trap or burden. It can be a gentle exploration, a rediscovery of what lights you up.

And here’s the best part—it’s never too late to ask yourself:

What makes me feel alive?