Self-Importance, Retirement, and Feeling Small in Glacier National Park

When I was working full-time, I used to think I was really important. Then, I retired and went hiking in Glacier National Park. There is nothing like soaring mountains and vast open landscapes to teach you how small we are in the grand scheme of life.

What does it mean to be important?

One might turn to the dictionary for definitions like "of great significance or value," "likely to have a profound effect on success," or "having high rank or status." However, if you were to ask ChatGPT, about the essence of importance, it would add a critical caveat: Importance is a concept intricately tied to context and perspective.

Yes, ChatGPT, you got that one right. Context matters!

In the final stages of my professional career, I naturally assumed I was important. Just look at my titles. Manager, Director, and even Vice President. Of course, people should listen to my words, heed my actions, and follow my lead. Or so I thought.

And look at the importance of the work I was doing. Selling software as a service and print management solutions. I acted like the free world's future depended on my ability to reach a specific sales target. Or so I thought.

Then I retired.

Retirement ushered in a different context and a fresh perspective. With distance from the daily grind, my view of work, my responsibilities, and their relative importance shifted. Kind of like having a curtain pulled back on the opening of a new "show" of my life (definitely an off-Broadway version).

Don’t get me wrong.

While I was working in sales and marketing, performance metrics and sales targets were the only measuring stick that mattered. Reaching and exceeding targets dominated all other goals and objectives for my work. The appeal of financial rewards and recognition fueled my self-importance, convincing me that success equated to significance.

I was working full-time in a challenging job that I enjoyed. Day-to-day activities and work pressures rose to the top of my mental to-do list. In truth, I had a typed-out to-do list because I am more than a little OCD (but I digress!). Producing results and winning (however you define victory) was what mattered. My brain had little room for anything else work-related.

Given my inflated perception of self-importance, you would think I was saving lives. But I was selling software, not technology for a hospital intensive care unit. It was imaging and print management software. As it turns out, the world continues to spin even if one less image is scanned or a sheet of paper is printed.

It took retirement, or more accurately, planning for my retirement, to open up more space in my brain for a new definition of importance and what really mattered most to me.

I was determined not to leave a mark in the sand upon my departure. Here today and gone tomorrow. My own version of don't let the door hit you in the rear on the way out.

I redirected my time and energy toward developing, nurturing, and guiding my team and direct reports. I intentionally worked myself out of a job. If I could effectively eliminate one layer of management, then maybe I was not really as important as I had thought. The business and daily operations would hum along smoothly even after I was gone.

With retirement, and the benefit of LinkedIn, I discovered a new definition for my self-importance. It wasn’t the direct financial results that were most important. It was the relationships and employee development that made a difference.

In retirement, and with the aid of LinkedIn, I stumbled upon a fresh definition of self-importance. It wasn't solely about financial results. Relationships and nurturing the growth of those in your "circle" are what matter most to me.

I quietly observed co-workers' careers continue to flourish from a distance, knowing that I had played a modest yet crucial role in their ongoing success. Perhaps this is why I now derive immense satisfaction from career coaching and business mentoring.

Now, let's circle back to the stunning landscapes of Glacier National Park.

My wife and I recently traveled to Montana to go hiking in Glacier National Park. Tucked far up in the northwest corner of Montana, this park is a treat for your eyes and senses. Travel tip for the adventurous: if you go, put Avalanche Lake, Going to the Sun Road, and the Highline on your bucket list.

Hiking in the wilderness at 6,000 feet with mountain peaks soaring above me, I had time to think and reflect on my importance in the world. It would be easy to say that, in this vast expanse, I quickly realized how small and unimportant I really am on this planet. All that is true, but my observation is a little more complex, a little more nuanced (yes, a play on words for all my former Nuance colleagues).

While I felt small in this vast wilderness, I retained a sense of my own importance. And it wasn't just as a food source for the grizzly bears that populate this park in one the highest concentrations in the United States.

I now understand that my self-importance has always been, and continues to be, intrinsically linked to my relationships. In my own modest corner of the world, I hold significance. It is in these one-on-one interactions that I make a difference.

My wife, children, family, friends, co-workers, and even the individuals that I mentor are those to whom I am important. That is where I matter and will continue to make a difference. And at the end of the day, that is more than enough for me.

Dan Troup is The Sunny Side of 57. He loves to reflect and write about life, family, career, and retirement. Check out more of his reflections on his blog site. Also, consider subscribing to The Sunny Side of 57. When not playing pickleball or hiking with Sue and Rigby, he writes a new post about twice a month.