Well into retirement, I've finally identified what I miss.
Not the work. Not the routine. Not the structure.
The people who watched me do it and knew whether I'd done it well.
In any serious professional role, there are a few people who understand the work well enough to know when it's being done correctly. Not audiences. Witnesses. The harbour master watching your approach. The pilot saying nothing while he watches everything. The particular silence that means you got it right.
I once executed a textbook stern-first berth in difficult conditions, and the most the pilot said was "Aye." One word, from a man who'd seen everything. In context: a standing ovation. I'm still slightly pleased about it twenty years later.
Remove the witnesses and you don't just lose the recognition. You lose a significant portion of the verification that the work was real and correctly done.
Today's paid piece goes into what that witnessing was providing, what its absence reveals, and whether self-witnessing — the logbook, the essay, the practice of recording what you noticed — is any kind of substitute.
Worth reading if you've ever left a skilled profession and wondered how you know if you're still any good.
The Old Grey Thinker · theoldgreythinker.substack.com
Guides for the second chapter: greythinker.gumroad.com
If the writing helped, some readers buy me a Pot of Yorkshire Tea. I’m English and run my days on tea. It’s one of the ways I keep this work independent. I appreciate every kindness — truly.