The day I realised something had changed, I was standing in front of my bedroom mirror, already dressed for work at 6:30 a.m., staring at a woman I barely recognised. Same haircut, same neat blazer, same ritual mug of coffee gone cold on the dresser. But the spark that had once pushed me out the door, that restless energy, had quietly stepped aside.
Deadlines no longer scared me or thrilled me. Invitations I would have jumped at now sat unanswered on my phone. Friends whispered, “You’re slowing down,” with a kind smile that sounded like a consolation prize.
I started to wonder if this was it: the beginning of the long, slow slide into “less”.
What if it was something else entirely?
When “I’ve lost my motivation” is a false diagnosis
At 64, I caught myself telling people, “I’m just not motivated anymore.” It slipped out casually, like the weather. I’d say it at family dinners, when my daughter asked why I didn’t want to lead another project. I’d say it to ex-colleagues over coffee, when they talked about new plans and promotions.
But it felt wrong in my mouth. The same way a borrowed coat never quite fits your shoulders.
Because inside, I still cared deeply. I just didn’t care about the same things.
A small moment made that crystal clear. One Monday morning, I ignored three emails from my old boss asking if I could “jump on a quick call” about consulting. At 10 a.m., my old self would have been halfway through a detailed proposal.
Instead, I was on a park bench, watching my grandson concentrate very hard on drawing a crooked rainbow with a stubby crayon. My phone buzzed on the bench beside me, lighting up again and again. I watched his tiny hand try a second rainbow, then a third, and I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: a calm, expansive joy.
I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t numb. I was fully present, just in a different place.
That’s when the penny dropped. I hadn’t lost motivation; my priorities had simply reshuffled themselves while I was busy trying to keep up with an old version of my life.
For decades, success for me meant early trains, late nights, inboxes emptied, teams managed, goals smashed. So when I no longer wanted that treadmill, I assumed something was “wrong”. In reality, my inner compass had quietly rotated.
The same drive I once poured into my career was now leaning toward health, quiet mornings, meaningful conversations, and work that felt real instead of just impressive on LinkedIn. The energy was still there. It was just walking in a new direction.
Learning to listen to a new kind of drive
The turning point came when I tried a simple exercise I’d once given my younger teams. I drew two columns on a sheet of paper: “Used to energise me” and “Energises me now.” Then I sat there feeling slightly ridiculous, pen hovering, like a teenager doing homework.
Slowly, the words arrived. Old column: promotions, conferences, tight deadlines, managing big budgets, seeing my name on reports. New column: long walks, unhurried meals, volunteering, learning something completely new, time with people who don’t care what I did for a living.
Staring at those two lists, I realised my motivation hadn’t disappeared. It had quietly matured.
If you’re in your sixties and feel strangely “flat”, you’re not alone. A 2023 survey on later-life wellbeing found that many people in their 50s and 60s report lower enthusiasm for work goals, yet higher satisfaction when they invest time in relationships, hobbies, or causes.
One friend, 67, told me she felt “useless” since cutting down her hours as a doctor. She missed the rush, the constant urgency. Then she started reading every afternoon to children at the local library. One day she said, almost surprised, “I’m tired at the end of the day, but it’s a good tired.”
It wasn’t that her engine had failed. She had simply changed roads.
A bay leaf under the pillow : the small night routine I once mocked, until it changed my sleep
The trouble is, society rarely gives us a script for that change. We praise ambitious 30-year-olds for “finding their passion”, yet quietly label a 64-year-old who sets boundaries as “slowing down”.
So we internalise that judgment. We call it “losing motivation” when what we’re really doing is trading the urgency of achievement for the depth of alignment. *That shift can feel unsettling, especially if your identity was built on always pushing, always producing.*
Let’s be honest: nobody really does this every single day without hitting a wall at some point. The wall isn’t failure. Sometimes it’s simply the sign that the direction you’ve been running in no longer matches the life you actually want.
Giving yourself permission to change priorities at 64
One concrete habit changed the way I moved through my days. I started asking myself one quiet question each morning over coffee: “What genuinely deserves my energy today?” Not what looks good. Not what impresses people. What deserves me.
I’d write down three things, no more. Some days it was calling a lonely neighbour, going for a medical check I’d been postponing, and cooking something colourful for dinner. Other days it was finally saying yes to a creative project and no to yet another “quick favour” that actually ate my entire afternoon.
This tiny ritual felt almost rebellious at first. Then it started to feel like respect. For my time. For my remaining years.
Many of us stumble on the same trap: we treat every drop in enthusiasm as a personal failure instead of a signal. We push harder, sign up for more, try to “get back” to who we were at 40. Then we feel guilty when it doesn’t work.
If this is you, you’re not broken. You’re transitioning. The mistake is judging your 64-year-old self by 40-year-old standards. Physically, emotionally, professionally, you are playing a different game now.
Some days you will still want big, bold goals. Other days, your biggest victory might be turning off your phone and watching the light change on your living room wall. Both can be valid. Both can be **intentional choices** rather than signs of decline.
One therapist I spoke with told me, “Your values in later life often become clearer, not weaker.” That sentence stuck with me. It reframed everything.
We confuse noise with purpose. At 64, you have the right to choose purpose over noise.
So I started building a small, visible reminder of my new priorities. I wrote them on sticky notes and put them inside a simple frame on my desk. Things like:
- Protect mornings for what nourishes me, not what drains me
- Say yes to people who leave me lighter, not smaller
- Do at least one thing each week that is purely for curiosity
- Rest without apologising for it
- Work on projects where experience matters more than speed
This wasn’t about “slowing down”. It was about **reinvesting my energy where it actually grows something**.
When your life stops fitting the old story
Some evenings now, I sit on my balcony and think about the woman who once thought motivation was a fixed asset, something you either had or lost. The same woman who would power through migraines to finish a report, yet postpone joy to “some other time”. That “other time” has arrived, and it looks nothing like I imagined at 40.
I still work, but differently. I turn down projects that don’t align with my values, even if they pay well. I say yes to slower trips, to afternoons without a plan, to conversations that stretch beyond small talk. There is less adrenaline, more steadiness. Less performance, more presence.
Maybe you’re at that edge too, where your old story about success no longer fits, but you don’t yet have words for the new one. That space can feel frightening and strangely free at the same time. It’s the space where you get to decide what counts from now on.
| Key point | Detail | Value for the reader |
|---|---|---|
| Motivation rarely disappears | It often shifts toward new priorities like health, relationships, or meaning | Reduces self-blame and opens the door to redefining goals |
| Daily alignment check | Asking “What genuinely deserves my energy today?” and listing three things | Simple tool to direct motivation toward what matters now |
| New life script at 60+ | Moving from external validation to inner values and presence | Helps readers see change as growth instead of decline |
FAQ:
- Question 1How do I know if I’ve really lost motivation or if my priorities just changed?
Notice where your energy naturally goes when no one is watching. If you still feel engaged and alive doing some things, your motivation is intact. It’s just pointing somewhere new.- Question 2Is it “too late” at 64 to change direction in life?
No. Many people start new careers, projects, or habits in their sixties and seventies. The scale might look different, but the sense of purpose can be just as strong.- Question 3What if my family thinks I’m giving up by slowing down at work?
Try explaining what you’re moving toward, not just what you’re leaving. Share the values behind your choices so they see a shift in focus, not a collapse.- Question 4I feel guilty choosing rest over productivity. How do I handle that?
Guilt often comes from old rules that no longer serve you. Start with small, intentional moments of rest and remind yourself they’re an investment in your health and presence, not a waste.- Question 5Can I still set goals if my priorities have shifted away from work?
Absolutely. Your goals can be relational, creative, physical, or spiritual. The key is that they match who you are now, not who you felt obliged to be before.
