Navigating Well-being in the Epilogue Economy: The Mental Fitness Challenge

This is a bit of a different article than those I typically write, and I don’t expect everyone to get it. But it’s something that has been on my mind for a while. Most of my previous articles are very positive in nature, I think, sometimes a bit of a humble brag, sometimes an A-ha moment or a “hey, look what I did!”

I have re-read and re-written this a few times. The first draft was raw and unfiltered and a bit dark. Each revision helped distil the message to its essence - not to diminish the challenges, but to focus on understanding them as part of a larger journey of growth.

But the reality is, monsters tend to live in the shadows. And it’s hard to discuss mental health from a place of sunshine and roses.

A couple of weeks ago, deep into a project involving AI and a client’s companywide transformation goals. I remembered that I had printed out a great Forrester report, something about the hidden value of GenAI transformation. When I grabbed it off my bookcase, a letter that I had received a bunch of months earlier from the US Social Security Office fell to the floor. This letter listed my upcoming social security benefits, as well as other topics I should consider while I prepare for retirement. The irony wasn't lost on me – here I was, at 60, pushing boundaries with leading-edge technology while also receiving retirement planning emails. I wasn’t expecting such a reminder of my age and station in life, and it took the wind out of my sails.

I realised then that the psychological journey of professionals in the Epilogue Economy deserves more attention than it's getting. The mental challenges faced aren't signs of weakness or irrelevance – they're indicators that we're charting new territory. Territory that deserves to be mapped, understood, and navigated with intention. But it doesn’t mean that it is easy, or comfortable.

We talk about skills, experience, and market value, but we rarely discuss the mental challenge of navigating this uncharted territory. How do we maintain our psychological well-being while reinventing ourselves? What happens to our sense of identity and purpose when we choose to write new chapters instead of concluding our professional story?

Over the next few articles, I want to explore some of the hidden struggles and the strategies for building mental fitness in this new frontier of extended careers. Now, I am not a psychologist, I have no degrees in aging, but I have, at times, taken advantage of my senior discount when available. I am writing what I know. Much of what I am going to say is based on what I am experiencing, what I have researched or what comes from some the books I am reading.

In my case, I am a rather fortunate. At one point in her career journey, my wife was a yoga instructor, training in Thailand and India, teaching in Singapore. She was introduced to quite a few methods for handling stress, indecision, and mental hurdles, which found their way into our daily lives, and has helped me immensely. Plus, she believes in this path I am on, and is my greatest supporter.

But not everyone has this a built-in support system, and we will get to that. I have also adopted many Japanese life concepts such as Ikigai (finding purpose in life aligned with your passion or skills), Kaizen (small, incremental improvements), Shoshin (approaching things with a beginner’s mind) and the concept of Wabi-Sabi (coming to terms with imperfection). These concepts have helped me approach not only the HOW of navigating this new terrain of career longevity, but also keeps me grounded in the WHY.

There is much to unpack, so let's start by looking at the head games that many of us face but few discuss openly.

The Identity Challenge: More Than Just a Job Title

When I started RockPaperScissors at the beginning of 2024, it wasn't just about launching a business – it was about redefining who I was at a time when traditional norms expected me to start winding down. Each day brought a new existential question: Was I still relevant? Was I trying too hard to stay in the game? Should I just go look for a job? Who’s going to hire me at this age? More noise, less signal.

Shortly after I published my first article on the topic of The Epilogue Economy, I was amazed at the number of people that reached out to me via LinkedIn, who were going through the same stage in life, with similar thoughts and struggles. It also really surprised me that these same people were of various ages. Not everyone that reached out were “those of a certain age.”

The mental load of constant adaptation isn't just about learning new technologies or keeping up with trends. It's about maintaining your sense of self while everything around you suggest you should be slowing down. When I dove into AI and began integrating it into my strategic and creative work, I wasn't just learning new tools – I was waging an internal battle between who I was, who I am, and who I wanted to become.

The Invisible Weight of Expectations

What we don't talk about enough is the mental tax that comes from constantly proving yourself in any industry. Mine - the creative media and advertising space - is particularly known for its infatuation with youth over experience. Every meeting becomes a subtle demonstration that you're still sharp, still relevant, still "got it." Every presentation carries the unspoken pressure of showing that your decades of experience seamlessly blend with current technological fluency. And for me, this is when I need to remind myself it shouldn’t matter to the other people in the room, or on the video call. But I also know that it does. You know those Nat Geo clips of some young animal sensing weakness in the head of the herd? Yeah, not today Junior.

The Times of London article I recently read stating that 57 is considered "too old" for a job wasn't just a statistic – it was a psychological gut punch that many of us have felt. There it was, in black and white. It was both a slap in the face, and an invitation to prove otherwise.

The Elephant in the Room

You know that feeling when you're the only one in the room who gets a reference you make in a discussion, and then you must stop moving toward your point, and explain what you meant, shifting from a creative strategist to that of a history teacher? That's not just nostalgia – it's a lived experience that shapes how we process change and transformation. And then I think “Shit, that is something my dad would have said.”

There's an interesting paradox in the Epilogue Economy that affects our mental well-being: the more experience you have, the more you feel the pressure to prove you're not obsolete. I've sat in rooms where my 30+ years of experience should have been my value, but instead felt like a timestamp questioning my relevance. The imposter syndrome hits differently at our age – it's not just about whether we're good enough, but more about which chair should I occupy in the modern workplace, or do I still even have a chair.

The Cognitive Tax of Continuous Reinvention and Improvement

I think we all, at some point in our careers, are forced to address the sheer mental energy required to constantly prove yourself. This is not just an age thing, but I do think it is amplified for those over a certain age. Each week, I'm not just updating my skills; I'm reconciling decades of proven experience with new ways of thinking and working. When I embraced AI as a core part of my consultancy, it wasn't just learning new tools – it was rethinking everything I knew about storytelling, the creative process, and strategy design. This continuous cognitive load doesn't show up on any timesheet, but it exacts a very real psychological toll.

Breaking Point or Breakthrough?

At times I find myself questioning the sustainability of constant adaptation - not because the work itself isn't energising (I love what I do), but because navigating this uncharted territory requires a new kind of mental fitness that we're all still developing

For me, and I am sure it’s somewhat different for everyone, these moments of self-doubt and the imposter syndrome that rents my head from time to time have made me pay closer attention to my mental health.

Maybe these moments aren’t a sign of weakness or doubt, but a signal that I need to approach my mental well-being differently in this new chapter of my life.

The Hidden Cost of Silence: Why Mental Well-being Matters

Through conversations with others charting similar paths, I've discovered we're all navigating similar challenges - not baggage so much as the natural weight of pioneering new ways of working and contributing at this stage of life. One would think that, as you get older, you become more open to sharing your feelings and your challenges. I am finding this is not the case. There seems to be some notion that since we are older, we have things figured out. But that is just not the case, and often people are uncomfortable with sharing what they are going through.

The unspoken mental toll of navigating the challenges of creating some sort of career longevity isn't just a personal challenge, it spills out into our professional lives. It becomes a collective issue that affects organizational success, innovation potential, and the future of work itself. I believe it can be particularly pronounced when a person works from home, or in an IC (Individual Contributor) role. By nature of our job, we have less contact with those around us, who might become supporters, confidants, or even mentors in our journey. One of the things I will write about later is how I am building a community outside of my home office.

The Real Stakes

When we dismiss or ignore the mental well-being challenges of experienced professionals, we're not just affecting individuals – we're squandering a vital resource. Every time experienced professionals step back from a challenge because of uncertainty, every time someone chooses early retirement over contribution because of expectations or norms, we lose something valuable. The cost isn't just personal; it's generational.

By sharing these challenges openly, my goal isn't to highlight problems but to start conversations that need to happen.

The mental fitness required for extended career journeys isn't discussed enough, perhaps because we're all trying to project constant confidence and capability. But acknowledging these challenges is the first step toward mastering them.

Looking Forward

In Part Two of this exploration, I want to dive into practical strategies that I am finding useful for building mental fitness and resilience in the Epilogue Economy. We'll explore how to transform these challenges into opportunities, build sustainable practices for mental well-being, and create support systems that work. Because the future of work isn't just about technology and skills – it's about creating environments where wisdom and innovation can thrive, regardless of age.

After all, the Epilogue Economy isn't just about extending careers – it's about redefining what's possible when we bring our whole selves, including our mental well-being, to the next chapter of our professional lives.