By Divya Munjal

When I stepped away from my corporate job a few months ago, the first feeling was relief. The constant urgency, the mental load and the invisible pressure lifted almost overnight. My sleep improved. My thoughts felt less crowded. I could hear myself think again.

And yet, alongside that relief, there was something unexpected. I missed my work. Not the deadlines or the escalation emails, but the sense of contribution. The rhythm of structured thinking. The quiet satisfaction of solving problems and adding value. It surprised me that both emotions could exist together so comfortably.

Society often assumes that when work stops, decline begins. We link retirement with illness, as though stepping away from a role automatically means stepping away from vitality. In my opinion, what affects our well-being is not the absence of employment, but it is the absence of engagement, purpose and meaningful mental stimulation. Work is only one of the many ways to access those things. It is not the only way.

Retirement and identity

For many of us, work is not just a source of income. It is identity. It is routine. It is structure. It is community. Over the years, our introductions have become intertwined with our designations. Our calendars define our pace. Our responsibilities shape our sense of usefulness.

When that structure changes, it can feel like a shift in identity. Who am I without the title? How do I measure my day without meetings and milestones? These are not dramatic questions. They are honest ones.

I have realised that what I missed was not “being busy.” It was “meaning.” There is a difference. “Being busy” exhausts but “meaning” energises. In the middle of a demanding schedule, the two can look similar. It is only after stepping away that the distinction becomes clear.

Leaving work, in my case, was not a reaction. It was a deliberate decision taken after much thought. I reflected on my health, my energy level and the quality of my days. I wanted to choose well-being before burnout chose me. The decision was proactive, not impulsive. That clarity matters.

Relief from stress

One of the most immediate changes was in my physical health. The low-grade tension, that I was accustomed to, began to dissolve. I had not fully realised how much background stress I was carrying until it was gone. There is a particular kind of fatigue that comes from being constantly responsible, constantly available and constantly alert. It is subtle but cumulative.

Without that steady pressure, my body responded positively. My mornings felt calmer. My evenings felt unhurried. There was space to read without glancing at notifications. Space to think without calculating the next task.

This experience made me question the automatic link between retirement and illness. Stepping away from prolonged stress should improve health in many cases. Chronic stress has well-documented effects on sleep, blood pressure and emotional well-being. Reducing stress is not a sign of withdrawal from life, but rather a step towards sustainability.

The longing for purpose

At the same time, relief did not cancel longing. I missed the intellectual stimulation of complex discussions. I missed mentoring conversations. I missed the structured challenge of improving a process or solving a persistent problem. There is a particular satisfaction that comes from contributing to something larger than oneself.

That longing is not a contradiction of the decision to leave. It is a reminder that purpose matters deeply to me.

It also highlights an important distinction. Work and purpose overlap, but they are not identical. Work is a container. Purpose is the content. When the container changes, the content does not have to disappear. It simply needs a new form.

This realisation has been both reassuring and empowering. It suggests that vitality in this phase of life depends less on employment status and more on intentional engagement.

Rethinking what keeps us well

If retirement is sometimes associated with illness, it is because of what can accompany it: sudden inactivity, social isolation or lack of mental stimulation. Those factors can affect anyone at any stage of life, whether employed or not.

Health in this phase seems to depend on some steady anchors: routine, movement, learning and connection. These do not require a formal job. They require conscious design.

A day can still have structure without meetings. It can still include contribution without corporate deadlines. It can still involve growth without performance reviews.

For me, this has meant asking new questions. What kind of engagement energises me without overwhelming me? What pace feels sustainable? How can I remain intellectually active while protecting the calm I have regained?

These questions have led me towards possibilities that feel aligned: teaching, writing and consulting in a measured way. Not as a return to relentless pace, but as a continuation of meaningful work in a healthier rhythm.

Designing the next chapter

One of the gifts of stepping away is perspective. When immersed in a demanding schedule, it is difficult to pause and evaluate what truly matters. Space creates clarity.

I have realized that productivity is not the only measure of a life well lived. Presence, reflection and balance carry equal weight. At the same time, I recognise that I thrive on purposeful engagement. I enjoy thinking deeply. I enjoy articulating ideas. I enjoy helping others navigate complexity.

The task now is not to recreate the past, but to design something intentional. A few hours of focused teaching. Time set aside for writing. Occasional consulting projects with clearly defined scope. This hybrid approach feels both stimulating and sustainable.

There is also value in allowing this transition to unfold gradually. Not every phase requires a fully mapped blueprint. Some phases are meant for recalibration. The key is to remain attentive to one’s own energy and honest about one’s needs.

A more nuanced understanding

We link retirement with illness because we underestimate the importance of self-direction. When external structures fade away, the responsibility to create our own rhythm becomes more visible. That can feel daunting. Yet it is also liberating.

Stepping away from a job does not mean stepping away from growth. It does not signal decline. It can represent a shift from externally driven achievement to internally guided contribution.

Relief and longing can coexist. Rest and ambition can coexist. Well-being and purpose can coexist.

As I navigate this new chapter, I am learning that vitality is less about the label of employment and more about engagement with life. It is about choosing activities that challenge the mind, nourish the body and align with values.

Retirement, then, is not a single story. It can be retreat, reinvention or renewal. It depends on how consciously we approach it.

In my case, it was a thoughtful decision made with care. It has brought calm. It has prompted reflection. And it has opened the possibility of designing work in a way that supports health rather than competes with it. The real question is not whether retirement leads to illness. It is whether we are willing to design our days with intention once the familiar structure changes. In that space of intention, there is room not for decline, but for a different kind of strength.