Self‑Motivation and Creativity

It struck me this morning how essential these two qualities have become in my life. I looked at my calendar and my inbox and both were empty, completely empty. That is something I am still not used to. In my former life as a client partner and head of consulting at a large global firm, every day was filled with meetings, travel, and a relentless inbox that I never quite managed to tame. Even with a great secretary I couldn’t keep up. My to‑do list was endless. Many of us live this way, and we often swing between despair and adrenaline, sometimes resenting it and sometimes thriving on it.

I never really had the fear that others describe when they talk about retirement. I was  young, and the idea of stepping away from work felt  far off, something I would not need to think about for many years. Then life forced me to retire before I turned fifty and gradually I have begun to experience the very thing people often describe: the strange quiet that comes when nothing is expected of you, when no one needs anything from you, and when your days are no longer shaped by obligations or deadlines.

Living with PSP means I have every legitimate reason not to push myself. A manual wheelchair is challenging. Stiff muscles are challenging. Most things are challenging. No one else can really push me (metaphorically), because people simply do not have the time. It has to come from within.

This morning I did not feel like exercising or doing yoga, yet I know I must keep my muscles active when I spend so much time sitting. So I pushed myself to move, repeating wheelchair pushes between the kitchen and the lounge, spending time on the exercise bike, and doing yoga to stretch everything out. A year ago this routine would have been a run and yoga, but life changes quickly, and I have to adapt in whatever way I can. It seems that is simply how I am built.

Creativity has become just as important. PSP moves quickly, and you rarely remain in the same physical or cognitive state for long. You have to think differently, learn new skills, and try things you never did before. When I find myself with nothing demanding my attention, I sit and ask myself what three things can I do that will benefit my mind, my body, my mental health, my physical health, or my family. These are not things I must do, but things I should do. When I slip into a low mood, I have to step back, observe myself objectively, and shift my focus to something else. This requires creative thinking and deliberate redirection.

I know a time will come when I will not be able to do what I do now, not even the basics of communication. I will probably be largely trapped within myself. Even then, I hope to use whatever cognitive space I still have to choose my thoughts, to return to memories that comfort me, to hold onto questions that spark something positive, and to stretch my mind for as long as I can. I do not know what that future will feel like. I am honest enough to admit that it scares me. But I will face it when it arrives.

For now, I am still mobile in a limited way, and my cognition remains strong. Creativity matters. Attitude matters. And perhaps what I am truly saying is that self‑motivation and the willingness to find new ways forward are not optional; they are essential.

I will finish with something that makes me smile. People have told me for years to try audiobooks, and it used to drive me mad. Recently I finally downloaded Audible, bought a book, and I have to admit that everyone was right. I am enjoying it. Today I plan to continue with my audiobook, read an old copy of The Economist, spend time with my sister, write a couple of articles, and rest whenever I need to. It is nothing like the days I used to have. There is no adrenaline and no constant pressure. But in reading about how a military engineer in the 1500s defeated the sultan of the Ottoman Empire, I am still learning new things, and that is valuable.

Today I will try something unfamiliar to me. I will try to relax and enjoy the day.