life changes – TYPiNG ouT oF THe BLue

Lately, I’ve been curious about something I’ve seen in other people—the quiet crisis that appears before retirement. It’s not dramatic. It usually begins with a small question in their mind: “What happens after all of this?” And watching them face it makes you realize that sooner or later, every one of us will reach that same turning point.

You can see how long-time workers start to shift inside. They’ve spent years carrying responsibilities, solving problems, and being the steady presence everyone depends on. So when retirement comes into view, the whole idea feels unfamiliar. Not frightening, not sad—just a different rhythm they haven’t tried before.

Then the deeper questions follow.

What will my days look like?
Will I still feel useful?
Who am I when the routine slows down?

People call this a pre-retirement crisis. It’s not a breakdown. It’s the heart adjusting after decades of structure and purpose. When someone has poured so much of their life into work, stepping away from that rhythm naturally creates a pause.

But retirement isn’t an ending. It’s a shift in tempo. A season where people can choose their own pace, their own mornings, and their own kind of purpose. They don’t lose themselves—they just begin shaping a personal chapter that’s been waiting in the background for years.

Maybe this whole phase is life giving them space to prepare for that new chapter—one that finally belongs to them after giving so much to everyone else.

Old • Darem Placer

Thoughts drift like clouds across a fading sky—until I find myself in a quiet room—Alone With a Piano.

Listen to Alone With a Piano on Apple Music and YouTube Music

**Alone with a Piano** includes **Old.**

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ

Last time, I wrote something about World Menopause Day.

This time, I ended up researching its male counterpart—andropause.

When we get older, we become a little paranoid, so maybe that’s why I did the research. Maybe I just wanted to know what really happens—or if “andropause” is even a real word. Turns out, it is.

Andropause is like the male version of menopause, only slower and quieter. Instead of a sudden stop, it’s a slow fade. It happens when testosterone—you know, the hormone that keeps a man’s energy, focus, drive, and even confidence steady—starts to dip. Not crash, just drop a little every year.

At first, you don’t notice. Then, small things start to change:

• You wake up earlier even when you didn’t plan to.

• Coffee hits different—it’s more comfort than kick.

• You notice small aches that used to go away faster.

• Nights get quieter, but thoughts get louder.

• You look at younger people and think, “They’ll learn.”

• You crave peace more than excitement.

It’s not an illness, just a shift.

The body starts changing pace, and the mind learns to keep up.

Maybe slowing down isn’t loss at all—man, maybe it’s life giving us space to notice what really matters.

—

I wrote this back in 1989—when I thought life was already sad, even with little experience. I didn’t know that years later, I’d feel that same sadness again, but differently.

Before, sadness felt like loneliness.
Now, it feels like reflection—quiet, calm, and strangely full.