Those who follow my blog have an idea how I’m spending my time as a retired CEO. I’m working – not for money, for fun. Beyond my recreational life (weapons of choice being a tennis racquet or a golf club - on a good day I use both), I’m writing about business leadership, branding and life. I’ve also written a historical novel, although I’m still trying to find a publisher who isn’t afraid to invest in a newbie, grey-haired writer in a market going through drastic change. Bottom line, I love a challenge and I’m every bit as goal-oriented as I was thirty years ago. Fortunately I don’t take myself as seriously as I did in my business days; I no longer fret about my insecurities or fear the political animals lurking in the hallowed hallways of the Zurich head office.
Looming retirement can be awfully daunting to a CEO, especially to those who define themselves by their jobs. Think about the personal and behavioral characteristics of the typical CEO. He (yes, "he" - 97% of Fortune 1000 companies are led by men) is:
2. Energetic and tenacious
3. Passionate and disciplined
In addition, he enjoys his leadership role and the power that goes with it. Imagine how difficult it is for him to keep his ego in check. These 5 characteristics plus ego and power are the very traits that motivate ex-CEOs in their afterlife. Many find satisfaction using their influence to help others. They get behind philanthropic causes with all the zeal and determination they exerted while rising to the top of the corporate ladder. Former CEO of sports apparel maker Russell Corporation, Jack Ward puts his time and money into helping inner-city kids. Warren Staley (Cargill) supports Habitat for Humanity with a hammer, a saw and a wallet. GE's Jack Welch divides his time consulting with companies, travelling, golfing, lecturing at MIT's Sloan School of Management and donating time and money to business education.
But, not every CEO follows this trodden path. Some find happiness pursuing interests that evaded them during the demanding years in the C-suite. At one time I worked for a hard-driving chap who was prematurely pushed out of the corporate cockpit. He was 62, a golden parachute strapped to his back, but no hobbies or interests beyond business. Worried for his mental well-being, his wife bought him lessons in painting. Painting wasn't the answer. But the notion of artistic discovery inspired this lost soul. He embarked on creating life-size, caricature stone sculptures of people he knew. He became an excellent sculptor and a much happier man than he ever was in the executive suite. You could see it in his eyes whenever he spoke of his work and his desire to improve. His glowed.