Why You Need a Power Project in Your Second Half

By Bob Loudermilk, author of Never Retire: Reinvent Yourself for Life's Second Half

The man in the lawn chair

On July 2, 1982, a 33-year-old truck driver from Los Angeles named Larry Walters tied 42 helium-filled weather balloons to a lawn chair. He packed some sandwiches, a camera, a parachute and a pellet gun. His plan was modest: float about 30 feet above his backyard, enjoy the view, then shoot a few balloons and drift back down.

Reality had other plans. Larry shot up to 16,000 feet and drifted into the airspace near Long Beach Airport. A startled pilot radioed the tower that he had just passed a guy in a lawn chair. Larry dropped his pellet gun, eventually came down in power lines, and caused a 20-minute blackout. He was arrested as soon as he landed.

When reporters asked why he did it, Larry said: "Well, a man can't just sit around."

Absurd? Absolutely. Dangerous? Definitely. But Larry was right. None of us can just sit around. Not with boredom, not with "used to" stories, and not with too many days that look the same. You need something better than a lawn chair and a parachute. You need a project.

What a Power Project is

Some of the happiest, most vibrant people I know live by one simple rule: always have a project. When one ends, they start another. When life slows down, they create a new one.

A Power Project is a purposeful pursuit that brings momentum, creativity and meaning into the second half of life. It isn't just a task. It's a mission with purpose and a pulse, something that pulls you forward and stretches your strengths.

A Power Project gives you:

• Direction when you're drifting
• Excitement when things feel flat
• Courage when you've grown cautious
• A deeply satisfying sense of "I'm not done yet"

The next great chapter of your life won't begin with clarity. It will begin with action.

Three types of Power Projects

1. Momentum Projects (1 to 7 days)

Quick wins you can finish in a few hours, a weekend or a week. They get you moving and rebuild your confidence. If you're stuck, start here.

• Write and mail a handwritten note of encouragement
• Invite over someone you've been meaning to reconnect with
• Declutter one closet, drawer or garage shelf
• Plant flowers or start a small herb garden
• Record a short video message for your grandchildren

2. Quarterly Projects (90 days)

Big enough to matter, small enough to finish. I recommend aiming for one every three months.

• Take a 12-week course in writing, photography, technology or a language
• Create a cookbook of family recipes and the stories behind them
• Walk 100 miles over 90 days, and celebrate it
• Sort, digitize and archive your family photos
• Volunteer weekly at a nonprofit that aligns with your heart

3. Legacy Projects (a year or more)

Your second-half masterpieces. They take vision and perseverance, and they often bless others for years to come.

• Write and publish a book
• Start a podcast or video series sharing the wisdom of your life
• Launch a mentoring group for a cause you care about
• Research and write your family's history
• Turn a lifelong skill into a course and teach others

All three kinds matter. Start where you are, and don't stay still.

The rubber band principle

In The Fifth Discipline, Peter Senge describes a rubber band stretched between two hands. One hand holds your vision. The other holds your current reality. The pull between them is creative tension.

That tension doesn't go away by itself. You have two choices: lower the vision to match reality, or move reality up toward the vision.

While I was working on Never Retire, a publishing consultant reviewed my full plan: a book, a workbook, an assessment and a movement. His advice was to cut it in half and make it smaller. For a moment I wavered. Then something in me said no. I would not shrink the vision. I would stretch reality to meet it. The consultant didn't get the job, and you have the full book.

When the tension feels uncomfortable, name it, normalize it, act through it, and choose the vision again.

Measure the gain, not the gap

Every big project has a messy middle. There were weeks during the book when I nearly quit. What helped was an idea from Dr. Benjamin Hardy and Dan Sullivan in The Gap and the Gain. The gap is what you feel when you measure yourself against your ideal. The gain is what you feel when you measure how far you've come from where you started.

To live in the gain:

1. At the end of each day, ask, "What progress did I make today?"

2. Keep a running list of wins, small and large.

3. Measure from your own starting point, not someone else's finish line.

4. Celebrate milestones along the way.

5. Treat setbacks as gains when you learn from them.

Choose your next project

Ask yourself:

• What excites me?
• What legacy do I want to leave?
• What problem around me can I help solve?
• What dream have I put off until "someday"?

Then grab a notebook. Write down three possible Power Projects. Circle one. Commit to a first step, no matter how small. Pick up the hammer, the pen, the paintbrush, the shovel or the phone, whatever your tool is.

Because Larry was right. You weren't made to just sit around.

This article is adapted from Chapter 12 of Never Retire: Reinvent Yourself for Life's Second Half by Bob Loudermilk. Get the book at neverretire.life.