The printers are humming tonight.

The laser is finally quiet after finishing a customer order, and there's still enough coffee left in the pot for another cup.

Those are good times to think.

The other day someone asked me what my retirement plans were.

I knew what they meant, but the question made me smile.

Not because I had a great answer.

Because a few years ago I didn't think retirement was something I was ever going to have.

I thought retirement meant working until I died.

That probably sounds a little dramatic, but if you've ever spent years just trying to survive, you might understand.

There was a time when grocery shopping meant figuring out which package was cheapest by the ounce. There wasn't much room for dreaming about retirement when you were trying to make sure next month's bills got paid.

Life isn't like that anymore.

I'm thankful for that.

But I've learned something about surviving.

Even after your circumstances change, your thoughts don't always change with them.

They still travel back there sometimes.

These days I know exactly how long I have until I can retire with full benefits.

Seven years and nine months.

Not because I'm counting the days until I can stop working.

Because for the first time in my life, retirement feels like something that's actually out there waiting for me.

The funny part is that retirement doesn't look anything like I thought it would.

Seven months ago I had never touched a laser.

Six months ago I had never even seen a 3D printer.

If someone had told me that I'd spend my evenings designing ornaments, running printers, talking to customers at craft shows, and learning CAD software, I probably would have laughed.

Yet here I am.

Somewhere in those seven months, Dwolfdragon Designs stopped being just another idea.

It became part of how I imagine the future.

People sometimes ask if the business is my retirement plan.

Maybe.

I certainly hope that someday it grows strong enough to stand on its own without needing my full-time job to support it.

But even if it never does...

It has already given me something I never expected.

It gave me permission to become a beginner again.

I forgot how much fun that could be.

Learning my laser software and the laser's quirks.

Trying to understand why a print failed.

Designing something that looked so much better in my imagination than it did on the laser bed or the 3D printer.

Starting over.

Figuring it out.

Trying again.

I don't think I realized how much I missed learning something completely new.

For years, retirement was something I imagined happening after life.

Now I think it's becoming part of life.

Not because I want to stop working.

Because I want the freedom to spend more of my time making things, meeting people at craft shows, learning new skills, and seeing where curiosity leads me next.

Will Dwolfdragon Designs get me there?

I honestly don't know.

I hope so.

But I've become comfortable saying, "I don't know."

Those four words have opened more doors for me than pretending I already had the answers ever did.

Maybe that's what changed over the last seven months.

I didn't just buy a laser.

I found hope again.

Not the loud kind.

Not the kind that says everything will work out exactly the way I planned.

Just the quiet kind.

The kind that whispers,

"Maybe the next chapter is going to be pretty interesting."

The printers are still humming.

I think the coffee's getting cold.

If you're building something of your own, I'd enjoy hearing about it someday.

Pull up a chair.

I'll put on a fresh pot.