FINDING MY NUMBER - WHAT'S YOURS?

As a self-employed person, I am responsible for a lot of numbers. Beyond the obvious digits associated with a P&L (profit and loss) statement and the metrics required for running a business, I am also responsible for all the logistics that come with traveling 140,000 miles a year. As I said, there are a lot of numbers, but I kind of enjoy it.

It's not the numbers that interest me, although they do; it's the story they tell. Numbers speak to me, and if you listen, they will speak to you as well. Numbers have hidden patterns and stories that they want to tell.  Some answers are easier to find than others. For twenty-plus years, I have been looking at these numbers:

How many days away from home is too many?

How can I make 140,000 miles easier?

How am I broadening my audience and deepening my impact?

The most challenging number to solve for is the final number. The number (age or date) of when to hang it all up and high-five a flight attendant for the final time. As you know, retirement is a hard number to quantify.


According to Mr. Google and the inter-webs, there is a way to figure it all out. I need to solve the following formula.


 R=E×(1+i)Y

 ---------

(S+(A×Y))

 

R = Retirement Readiness Score (if ≥ 1, you’re on track)

E = Expected annual retirement expenses

i = Inflation rate (as a decimal, e.g., 0.03 for 3%)

Y = Years until retirement

S = Current savings/investments

A = Annual contributions (what you're adding per year)

 

There it is: MY NUMBER! Well, if I could find it.

I don't fully (or even remotely) understand the formula above, and even if I did, I lack the confidence to follow it because it doesn't account for the human aspect of retirement. Things like:

How will I fill my time?

Will I still feel useful and valuable?

Will I be happy?

Who will teach me to play pickleball?

Does my wife want me around that much?

In case you are curious, my number won't be arriving anytime soon.  I have a ton of work to do and two boys to put through college. However, it is a puzzle I am trying to solve – and a number I am searching for.

Have you been searching for your number?

I am confident most of you have been there—lying awake at 3 AM, replaying the same question over and over: Should I stay in this job? Can I really keep doing this for another decade? Why does the sight of a yellow school bus make my stomach hurt? 


You think about it, not because you don't love your students, but because the uncertainty of "when" hangs over everything else.


 As music teachers, we're generally not wired to live life in the moment. We are planners, doers, and thinkers. We build rehearsal schedules, manage inventory, and plan trips with precision and detail that leave other educators in awe. As a teacher, I took pride in preparing not just for the present, but also for the long-term future. 

However, according to well-known blogger Scott Clary, it is essential to know your end, to be at your best. He states, "When we act like our time is infinite, indecision thrives. And here's the truth: it isn't."

He believes that when you don't know your end date, every choice feels overwhelming. Consider it from the perspective of a music teacher.

Should you start that new ensemble? Take students on a trip? Advocate for new uniforms? If your career stretches endlessly in your mind, every decision carries infinite weight. What if it's wrong? What if it sets me back forever. 

So, instead of acting, you overanalyze—and nothing changes: analysis – paralysis.

But here's the radical shift: once you decide when you're going to retire, you can work backward. You know how many more concerts you have left, the number of festivals you will attend, how many uniform replacements you'll see, and how many classes you'll recruit before you hang up the baton. It fixes everything because the horizon line is finally clear. Instead of chasing every opportunity, you'll focus on the ones that align with your timeline. 


That's not limiting—it's liberating. We all thrive on deadlines, and this is the ultimate deadline. Clarity breeds peace. 


Knowing your work horizon doesn't box you in; it gives you a defined space and time, removing the "X" or unknown factor that is so daunting. You no longer have to carry the weight of endless "what ifs."

Most importantly, knowing when it all will end allows you to be present in the here and now. Something I struggle with. You will appreciate each concert, each senior class, and each rehearsal filled with laughter and wrong notes more fully. You stop putting off the joy of teaching because you know it is not perpetual. This realization will inspire you to be more present and engaged in your teaching.

So here's the challenge: pick a date. No matter how far away it might be. It doesn't have to be exact down to the day, and yes, you can change your mind. Five years. Ten years. Whatever it is. Once you decide, you'll stop being paralyzed and start making intentional decisions, feeling empowered and in control. 

I have my number. 

As I said, numbers tell a story. My story. The math is straightforward on this one thing – I have more work to do, more kids to teach, and more impact to make before I hit that number.

How about you?

Have a great week!

 

Scott

Next
Next

FORTIFYING BUILDINGS vs. FORTIFYING KIDS