THE LONGER I SPEND in retirement, the more convinced I am of the benefit of reliable income. One of retirement’s most pronounced psychological shocks is the loss of a regular paycheck. After four decades of working, you get used to one coming in every two weeks. The occasional consulting paycheck, even a small one, makes me inordinately happy.
I’m fortunate to have a traditional defined-benefit pension. It built up over 31 years of working with a large aerospace engineering firm.

ONE OF MY FAVORITE books is The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz. Its subtitle is Why More Is Less: How the Culture of Abundance Robs Us of Satisfaction. The principles that the book discusses have important implications for how we manage our money.
Schwartz distinguishes between “maximizers” and “satisficers.” A maximizer is someone who needs to be assured that he or she is making the best decision possible.

SOME PEOPLE CAN LOOK at a blank page and imagine a new creation—perhaps a new business or a new house. I can’t.
What I seem to be pretty good at is taking something that’s broken and coming up with creative solutions for fixing it. It’s like a game or a puzzle. The goal: Bring this broken object back to life as cheaply as possible.
When, say, a washing machine or a dishwasher breaks, the repair person will look up the manufacturer and order the necessary replacement part.

HOW CAN WE GET greater satisfaction from our life—and what role does money play? Below is an edited excerpt from A Wealth of Well-Being, published this month by Wiley.
I often note that the biggest risks in life aren’t found in the stock market. If you want real risk, I say, get married. And if you want more risk, have children.
People laugh. The point is obvious.

I KEEP SEEING THEM—overly complicated, overly expensive investment portfolios. The most recent belonged to a widow in her 70s, with modest earned income, Social Security benefits and about $5,000 in taxable fund distributions for 2023. She was someone I helped during the recent tax-filing season, when I was volunteering at an AARP TaxAide site in Monmouth County, New Jersey.
Her portfolio held about a dozen mutual funds, most of which I’d never heard of.

IN MY EARLY 50s, when retirement began looking like a viable option, I started thinking seriously about what my life might look like after I stopped working as an engineer at a nearby nuclear power plant. Earlier in my career, I’d imagined living off my pension and not working at all. But by my 50s, I wasn’t so sure. I felt retirement could be a time to explore other work opportunities.
My favorite hardware store is less than a mile from my house.

I’VE FOUND RETIREMENT to be a conundrum. We finally have the time to pursue any activity we want in a leisurely manner—spend time with family and friends, exercise, sleep, travel, read, binge watch TV, knock items off our bucket list. On the other hand, I now hear the constant ticking of life’s clock.
Tick tock, tick tock.
For the decades before retiring, life for my wife and me was pedal-to-the-metal with work, children, commuting and chores,

I WAS A PART-TIME instructor in public speaking for Dale Carnegie & Associates during the 1980s and early 1990s. I taught a course at the Downtown Athletic Club in lower Manhattan.
At the time, my wife and I were living in northwestern New Jersey, and we each took the bus into Manhattan to our respective jobs. The course was given after work, so I had to take a late bus home. This meant my wife needed to drive to the bus depot to pick me up.