Last Updated on August 9, 2026 by Michelle
I have been feeling a little bored lately.
Which is strange, because there is absolutely no reason for me to be bored.
I work full time. I write two blogs a week. I exercise. I read. I listen to podcasts. I learn French. I have a family. I have friends. I have 37 habits that somehow fill up my days.
And I have travelled quite a lot this year.
In January, I was in New York for work.
In April, Mumbai and Bangalore for work, followed by a holiday in Seoul.
In May, I went to Hong Kong.
In July, Kazakhstan.
And somehow, despite all of that, I recently found myself planning another trip to Ho Chi Minh City to join my husband on his business trip.
I don’t even have a particular reason to go to Ho Chi Minh City.
I just thought it would be nice.
Something different.
Something to look forward to.
And that last sentence made me stop.
Something to look forward to.
Maybe that was what I had been looking for all along.
Maybe I Wasn’t Craving Travel
At first, I thought I was simply in a phase where I wanted to travel more.
But that explanation didn’t quite make sense.
I already have plenty of travel planned.
And when I thought about the Hong Kong trip in May, I realised I had almost forced that trip to happen.
There wasn’t something in Hong Kong that I desperately wanted to see.
I just wanted a plan.
Something on my calendar that made me think, Oh, that’s coming up.
That feeling matters to me more than I realised.
I like anticipation.
I like waking up knowing there is something interesting somewhere ahead of me.
It doesn’t necessarily have to be a holiday.
In fact, I realised recently that some of the things I look forward to most have nothing to do with travel.
Last week, I was on my usual evening brisk walk listening to a talk by a Korean psychologist Kim Kyung-il, someone I had listened to in various podcasts and lectures.
Halfway through the walk, I suddenly had this thought:
I would really like to have coffee with him one day.
Not attend one of his talks.
Not take a photo with him.
Actually sit down with him over coffee and have a conversation.
I think I would have so much fun talking to him.
And immediately, the idea made me happy.
Maybe on one of my future trips to Seoul, somehow, I will make it happen.
Will it happen?
I’m kind of sure it will.
But even the possibility of it gives me something to look forward to.
And that was when I realised that what I had been calling boredom might actually be something else.
Perhaps I didn’t need more things to do.
Perhaps I needed more things to look forward to.
There Is a Difference Between Purpose and Anticipation
My first instinct was to think that perhaps I was lacking purpose.
But that didn’t feel right either.
If anything, I feel clearer about my purpose now than I have for most of my life.
I know I want to build BYORM.
I know I want my second career to be about well aging and helping other people intentionally design the second half of their lives.
I know why I am working towards financial freedom.
I know why I exercise.
I know why I continue learning.
I know why I write.
There is plenty of purpose in my life.
But I am beginning to realise that purpose and anticipation are not the same thing.
Purpose gives me a reason to do something.
Anticipation gives me something I can’t wait to do.
I could spend a perfectly meaningful Tuesday writing a BYORM article that helps someone think differently about her life.
That gives me purpose.
But if every Tuesday looked exactly the same for the next five years, I suspect that eventually I would still feel a little bored.
Nothing would necessarily be wrong.
I might be healthy.
Financially free.
Doing work I love.
Surrounded by people I care about.
And yet something could still be missing.
Something ahead of me that makes me think:
I can’t wait.
A Good Life Can Still Feel Too Predictable
This has made me think differently about why I have been feeling restless in 2026.
There is actually a lot that is good about my life.
Maybe that’s precisely the point.
So much of my current life is known.
I have worked at the same company for many years. I know my job. I know my industry. I know my routine, very well.
My children are independent (and I love that they are).
My financial plan is largely in place.
I know roughly when I will be financially independent.
I know I want BYORM to become my second career.
I even have a surprisingly detailed picture of what I would like an ordinary Tuesday in 2030 to look like.
There isn’t a crisis I am trying to solve.
There is just perhaps not enough that feels new.
And I wonder if this happens more often in midlife than we talk about.
We spend so much of our younger years moving towards obvious milestones.
Graduation.
First job.
Promotion.
Marriage.
Children.
Buying a home.
Another promotion.
There always seems to be something next.
Then one day, many of those things are done.
Life can be very good and yet become strangely predictable.
Maybe sometimes what we call boredom isn’t dissatisfaction at all.
Maybe it is simply a need for possibility.
I Want Something on the Horizon
This realisation has changed the way I think about the life I am designing life after my corporate career.
I have spent years thinking about what that life needs.
Financial freedom, definitely.
Physical vitality, because there is little point having freedom if my body isn’t strong enough to enjoy it.
Intellectual growth, because I want to remain curious and interesting.
Meaningful connections, because a good life is ultimately shared with people we love.
Purposeful reinvention, because I want to continue doing meaningful work for as long as I can.
These have become the pillars of the BYORM Method.
But now I think there may be something else.
I want my future life to always have something on the horizon.
Not necessarily another achievement.
In fact, preferably not.
Maybe a conversation with someone fascinating.
A city I haven’t lived in before.
A dinner with some new people I can learn something new from. A new way of thinking or life?
A new subject I suddenly become obsessed with.
A talk I am slightly nervous about giving.
Someone coming to visit.
A book I can’t wait to read.
A weekend away with my husband.
Or simply a restaurant reservation on Friday night that I have been thinking about all week.
I don’t think anticipation has to be grand.
It just needs to make the future feel interesting.
What Would I Want at 80?
Whenever I am trying to work out whether something belongs in BYORM, I like to imagine my older self.
So I imagined myself at 80.
I am likely to be fabulous.
I am financially independent.
I have a happy marriage.
I have wonderful relationships with my children, family and friends.
I am still intellectually curious.
I am still working on things I love.
I am healthy enough to enjoy my life.
On paper, that sounds like a pretty good version of well aging.
But then I imagined that 80-year-old version of me waking up every morning with absolutely nothing she was particularly looking forward to.
Her days are pleasant.
Her life is comfortable.
But everything is known.
Would that be enough for me?
I don’t think it would.
I would still want something coming up.
Maybe I am meeting someone interesting for lunch next Tuesday.
Maybe a family ski trip with my kids next month.
Maybe I am travelling somewhere with my husband.
Maybe I am preparing for a talk.
Maybe I have decided, for no sensible reason whatsoever, that at 80 I am going to learn something completely new.
I hope I will still be able to say:
I can’t wait.
That feels like the ultimate well aging.
A Well-Designed Life Needs More Than Purpose
For a long time, I thought the answer to a meaningful life was purpose.
And I still believe purpose matters enormously.
But now I think purpose might only be part of the answer.
Because purpose tells us why our life matters.
It doesn’t necessarily make us excited about next Thursday.
And perhaps we need both.
A well-designed life has purpose behind you and anticipation ahead of you.
I love that thought.
Purpose gives our lives depth.
Anticipation gives our lives forward movement.
One makes today meaningful.
The other makes tomorrow inviting.
And perhaps that is why having something to look forward to feels so good.
It isn’t about constantly chasing excitement.
It isn’t about filling our calendars.
And it certainly isn’t about needing another holiday every time life feels ordinary.
It is about maintaining a relationship with our own future.
There should still be possibilities there.
I’m Not Going to Turn This Into Another Goal
I know myself well enough to see the danger here.
I could very easily decide that I now need one exciting thing every month.
Put it into a spreadsheet.
Create twelve categories.
Track it.
Measure it.
And somehow turn “having something to look forward to” into another project to complete.
I don’t want to do that.
I don’t think anticipation works that way.
Some of the best things we look forward to aren’t productive at all.
They don’t improve us.
They don’t make money.
They don’t advance our careers.
They don’t even need to make sense.
They simply make us happy when we think about them.
And I am starting to think that is enough.
What Are You Looking Forward To?
So lately I have been asking myself a new question.
Not:
What am I working towards?
I already have plenty of answers to that.
Instead:
What am I looking forward to?
I think I want to keep asking myself that question as I get older.
At 50.
At 60.
At 70.
At 80.
Because I don’t only want to build a life that is healthy, financially secure, meaningful and full of people I love.
I want to build a life that I am still excited to wake up to.
Maybe that is one of the things I hadn’t understood about well aging before.
It isn’t only about becoming someone you are proud of.
It is also about making sure that, no matter how old you become, there is still something ahead that makes you smile when you think about it.
Right now, one of mine is a coffee in Seoul with the psychology professor that hasn’t even been arranged. Just because I think I will have a lot of fun having the 1-1 chat.
And strangely, that is already making me happy.
So perhaps the question isn’t only:
Who are you becoming?
Perhaps every now and then, we should also ask:
What are you looking forward to?
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