“I’m bored,” he complained to his therapist. “Is this what retirement feels like? Day after day of boredom for the rest of my days?”

His therapist burst out laughing, “I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just thinking because I’ve often thought of my own retirement as the time to finally pursue what I want to do. You know, fun-wise, hobby-wise…”

“Hobby,” he said the word like he’s mulling the word over in his brain, “Well, I’ve always wanted to paint.”

“Okay, then do it.”

“What if I’m not good at it?”

“Well, I suppose it’s time for you to find out.”

The next day, he packed up his car, and let his wife know he’s going on a self-discovery trip per his therapist and to not worry about him, he drove southwestward until he reached a remote spot in the Mojave Desert. There, he set up his easel, canvas, paint, and paintbrushes and got to work on his masterpiece.

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