What Does a “Good Week” Look Like Now?

There was a time when I could answer that question with certainty: a good week was one where I accomplished everything on my calendar, kept stress in check, and managed to keep work from completely consuming my life. If I stayed on top of deadlines and wrapped up the week feeling productive but not depleted, I considered it a win.

But now? It’s not about productivity anymore — it’s about fulfillment. And that feels like a much better place to begin.

What does a productive or meaningful week look like when I’m no longer working to achieve—but working to discover who I really am? After sharing my first blog post, I realized how many of us are asking this same question.

At first, I wasn’t sure where to turn. The structure that once guided my days—deadlines, meetings, goals—was gone, and in its place was a wide-open space.

That openness felt both liberating and unsettling. Should I dive into something new, pause, or start planning? The truth is, I didn’t know. And I suspect many of us, when we think about not having the familiar rhythm of work, feel that same uncertainty.

It’s in that unsettled space that the real questions begin to surface—not about what to do next, but about who we are becoming. Before deciding what to do, we need to rediscover what brings us joy. It’s in rediscovering joy—those small sparks of curiosity or connection—that direction begins to take shape.

When I stopped working, it quickly became obvious that the joy that had once threaded through my life was absent. Concerts, theatre, knitting, reading—those things that once lit me up—had gradually been set aside to make more room for work.

That emptiness revealed how much of my identity had been tied to staying busy—and how deeply I had equated productivity with worth.

The Myth of Productivity

Retirement—or whatever you want to call this phase—doesn’t come with annual reviews or bonuses. And without those familiar milestones, I behaved as though I wasn’t doing enough.

It turns out, redefining success meant unlearning a lot. Like the idea that downtime was a guilty pleasure. That joy needed to be earned. That unless I was “producing,” I wasn’t contributing.

Slowly, I started unlearning the old habits of hustle. I realized that being still didn’t mean being stuck—and that fulfillment often shows up in the quiet, in the simple, in the things I once rushed past. I began to see that my identity had been built on achievement—and now I’m learning to rebuild it on presence.

Redefining My Week

These days, my weeks look—and feel—completely different. They’re still full, but not in the overwhelming way they used to be. They’re full of moments, not meetings. Connection, not commotion.

Here’s what a week of my kind of success looks like:

Movement

It seemed easiest to begin with the physical. I remembered all the times I said, “I wish I had more time to go to the gym.” After some trial and error, I found a routine that keeps me engaged and strong. Now the gym feels less like a guilty task and more like a rewarding challenge.

Summertime brought golf with my husband and even a pickleball clinic. I wasn’t chasing success—I wanted to move, laugh, and meet others willing to try something new. Each of these small beginnings reminded me that identity isn’t fixed—it’s discovered in the openness to try. And in those moments of laughter, I realized connection matters as much as the activity itself.

Creativity and Curiosity

I leaned into creativity by exploring charcoal drawing, even though I had absolutely no experience. That was the point—to try something uncomfortable and see what could emerge. To my astonishment, a budding artist showed up.

Maybe you’ve had one of those moments—the surprise of discovering joy not in mastery, but in simply beginning. It’s like opening a door you didn’t realize was there, and finding something familiar on the other side.

For me, that door seemed to open towards writing—the place I’ve always felt the most comfortable.

I’ve loved the written word for as long as I can remember. Novels had the power to transport me to different worlds. I often wondered what it would be like to write creatively myself. Just thinking about it stirred up feelings of excitement along with a small dose of fear.

Without formal training, I worried my technique might not measure up. Maybe you can relate—hesitating to try something new because you don’t feel qualified. What have you set aside because you didn’t feel ready? Sometimes taking one small step towards that goal is enough.

For me, that step was signing up for a fiction writing class. What surprised me was how naturally it clicked, and how fulfilling it felt to write without the boundaries I once had in corporate life. Back then, my words were shaped to meet deadlines and deliverables. Now, they’re shaped to reveal my voice. And sharing those words reminded me that creativity isn’t just personal—it builds bridges with others who are also on similar journeys.

Letting Go of “Should”

Even with all these rich experiences, I find the old “shoulds” creep in. Shouldn’t I be doing more? Shouldn’t I have a clearer plan? Shouldn’t I be using this time better?

But better, I’m learning, is a moving target. And “should” is usually someone else’s voice. Voices that no longer belong in the days I’m creating.

Some days are busy with classes and adventures; others are quiet, slow, and inward. Reading, reflecting, and tackling the occasional 1000-piece puzzle are equally important to me. I’m slowly giving myself permission to rest, to wander, to take the scenic route—literally and figuratively.

What I’ve Gained

By shifting how I define success, I’ve opened up space for so much more: freedom, creativity, connection, and peace. I no longer feel the need to prove myself. I just get to be myself.

Success isn’t about being better than I was yesterday—it’s about being more aligned with who I am right now. This alignment feels less like achievement, more like authenticity.

The Ongoing Journey

This phase of life is still unfolding. I don’t have a five-year plan or a list of milestones to hit. What I do have is a sense of openness, curiosity, and trust that I’m exactly where I need to be.

It feels less like crossing a finish line, more like walking on a path with an expanding horizon.

What You Can Expect Next

I’ll continue sharing what this journey of self-discovery looks like as it evolves—the adventures, the stumbles, the quiet revelations. If you’re redefining what success looks like in your own life—or wondering if you’re allowed to—let this be your reminder:

You are allowed.

We don’t have to earn the right to enjoy our lives. We just have to claim it.

🌱Becoming Me Again — one step, one story at a time.

If you’d like to listen in, Episode 2: Redefining Success is right below.