There is a formula for knowing when to retire, and here it is.

Let's say you've worked for X number of years at your current job, and you're looking forward to a time that you don't have to do it anymore. Not another day. How do you know when that time is? I think it comes down to a formula, to three things: (1) job satisfaction or lack of it, (2) assets, and (3) future plans. If you've thought about all these, and you still want out, then it well may be time to retire. But if you have hesitations, maybe you need to think about it a little more.

Take your current job: Are you happy? Do you like it? Would you miss it? Lots of people are so wed to their jobs that they can't imagine not doing them. This may be because they truly enjoy their jobs, or it may be that their jobs are the anchor in their lives: cut loose, they would drift, and with no money. Others can't wait to be done with their jobs. Categorize yourself: which are you? If you're the first, then hang on to your job as long as you can. (But do try to retire before you're run out by young management. Keep your dignity.) If you're in the latter category -- ready to quit, for whatever reason -- you need to pay heed to number two above: assets.

If you could give up your job tomorrow -- or next week -- with no qualms, then it's time to think about whether or not it's workable. Consider your assets, your financial situation. Can you afford to stop working? Paychecks are very addictive. Can you do without them? Forever? If so, if you have enough saved and maybe a pension or 401K money or investments, plus Social Security, etc., then you need to move to the big one, number three: future plans.

If you're just quitting your job because you're sick of it and you can afford to, consider this: What will you do when you're not doing this job? Are you ready to spend whole days doing something that won't drive your spouse -- or you -- crazy? Do you have a hobby? An intellectual pursuit you've put off till now, like reading history books or writing a novel? Are you really prepared to fill up the rest of your days on this earth with useful or at least entertaining activities?

Can you, for hours on end, not be supervised?

If you answered "yes" to all three -- you're ready to quit your job, you have enough money to get you through the last decades of your life, and you have something to occupy all those years that you really want to do -- then it's time to retire.

What are you waiting for?

We are most happy when we leave our bodies.

Have you ever had a dream that seemed more real than your real life and that you didn't want to end? Have you ever been in love? Have you ever read a novel that you got into so much that you didn't want to put it down to attend to your real life duties and obligations? Have you ever been high on drugs? Every been tipsy (not quite drunk)? Daydreamed to the point that you didn't hear someone call you the first time?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, then you've been, at one time or other, living the life of the mind. We don't know what the mind is, but we can be fairly certain it's located in the brain. Certainly not in the muscles and tissues and veins and organs of the body. Those are the machinery. They do the work, and they give us pleasure -- but that pleasure, like almost every other thing about us as humans, registers in the brain.

In the course of evolution, something dramatic seems to have happened between us and our simian brothers and sisters: consciousness. A product wholly of the brain. Nothing to do with the body. I mean, think about it: any lion on a savanna in Africa can outdo our best athlete. And can eat him/her afterward.

We humans get our pleasures, even if they start in the body, through our brains. Our thoughts and emotions -- hallmarks of being us -- come from our brains. Memories, ambitions, dreams: all from that little squiggly mass of whatever that contains more nerve endings than we can begin to imagine. Such a small scale: such a huge result. And utterly mysterious.

As creatures of consciousness, it's only reasonable to think that our happiest moments come when we forget our bodies -- maybe well-maintained but more likely overweight or puny or even sickly -- and relax into the life of the mind. A good conversation with an old friend, a drink with a buddy, a particularly satisfying dream, lying on the beach and feeling the sunshine, or just sipping iced tea on the front porch and watching how the blossomed trees in early spring sway in the breeze: all belong in the realm of the brain. The mind. The psyche, even. The non-body.

This, I think, is where religion comes from: the idea that we, you and I, can exist without our bodies. That the richest parts of our lives come from times when we're remembering or just thinking, or when we're lost in love (which is a mental thing as much as a physical one), or when we're looking at a work of art or at nature, speechless. It's only a short leap to imagine existing as non-body (soul?), but, as usual, the devil is in the details. Still . . .

Plan your funeral -- now.

Yes, I know you're not thinking of dying any time soon. Or maybe you are. In any case, you do need to make known your preferences for what happens to you after you're gone. Someone is going to have to deal with you and your, to put it bluntly, remains. Who is that going to be? And will that person, or persons, know what you wanted done with your remains?

Old age claims us all eventually, but disease and accidents take their toll prematurely, and while we never think it's going to be us, sometimes it is.

In the past year and a half, I've had three immediate family members die: two brothers and, most recently, my mother. None had spelled out, in detail, what they wanted done with them, and none left enough money to cover the expenses.

Not to be too crass, but funerals -- whether or not you have an actual burial service -- can be expensive. My little brother, who died a year ago December, always said he wanted to die in his adopted "home" of Thailand, but he didn't make it back there and didn't leave either detailed instructions as to who his remains should be shipped to or enough money to cover the costs of having him "laid to rest" here: he had $600 in his bank account when he died, and the cremation -- with no service -- cost $2600. His ashes were scattered over his father's grave. My other brother, who died within the same week, was taken care of by his wife, but, again, he left no written instructions, so he, too, was cremated and his ashes were interred in the last remaining corner of the family plot. Is that what he wanted? Who knows?

My mother, who lived to be almost 99, always said that she didn't want any fuss made when she died -- mainly, I think, to spare the family too much expense -- but because she lived so long and had so many old friends in the town, my sister and I thought we should have, if not a funeral, at least a "visitation", meaning that she was laid out in a nice dress in her casket in a room where all could see her one last time. (It was a good decision, as I saw so many elderly people patting her hand and talking to her, saying goodbye.) She was cremated, and I haven't asked my sister what happened to her ashes. She left behind in her bank account nowhere near the more than $5000 it took to hold a "visitation". May she rest in peace.

The point is that you need to (1) make it clear, in writing, what you want done with what's left of you when you die, and (2) leave behind enough money to cover the expenses (unless you're sure someone else will willingly pay for your disposal). To die with no plans and no money is to put a big burden on those you leave behind.

I always told my kids that they should take my dead body out to the country and throw it out for the wild dogs and feral cats to consume. They were appalled, of course, and that's not what's going to happen. I'll be cremated and have my ashes scattered in places special to me and my family. And I will leave behind the $$$ to see that it's done. Personally, I don't care what is done with my earthly remains -- I think of all the nameless victims of wars and plagues who have been consigned to the soil with no ceremony and don't think I deserve more -- but the post-death rituals are for the living, not the dead, and they should have the final say-so.

Just make it as easy for them as possible. Don't make them feel guilty. For instance, cremation may seem like the easiest and most logical way to dispose of you or me, but our children and other loved ones may resist the idea that we are going to be turned to ashes. If they want us, instead, laid to rest in the ground, so be it. If they want a service, it's up to them. I kind of like the idea of a "wake", where old friends come by for a pint and remembrances. But if the ones you leave behind want your body on display and want a place to come see you when you're gone, respect their wishes. After all, your wishes, once your dead, don't count any more. Your vote in the process is absentee, at best, and not likely to be counted.

We all fret about death and its aftermath, wondering/fearing/hoping, but our obligation as the ones someday to be dead (and no longer wondering/fearing/hoping) is to spare our loved ones the additional griefs of expense and our indecision. Remember that the ritual is for them, not us.
When the time comes, we're beyond all that.

I like the idea of the "green" funeral, in which your body is wrapped in a shroud and laid in a grave -- no coffin, no casket, no embalming -- to be devoured by the elements, returning to its natural state as part of the organic earth. After all, that's what happened to our ancestors who died on "the way West" in wagon trains, as well as to countless others who died without anyone nearby to mourn.

Be a good parent/sister/brother/child/etc. and make a plan and let it be known. You'll be more fondly remembered if your left-behind loved ones didn't have to guess at your wishes and/or pay for your final rest.

May you live a good long life with no regrets. Okay, maybe a few, but not too many.

Anyone can exercise -- here's how.

Exercise is doing more than you're doing right now. If you're walking, walk a little faster. If you're loading clothes in the washer, do it a little faster. If you're sitting in an office, push up under the desk with your knees and hold it for a few seconds. Lean back in your chair as far as you can, feeling how your back muscles stretch. Hold that pose a few seconds.

We've all been conned into thinking that exercise is hard and that it entails great effort and pain. Exercise just means pushing yourself a notch further, physically doing something extra. Walking is an activity we can all do, whether we're 8 or 80, a hundred pounds or three hundred. Get out and walk and, as time goes on, try to walk a little faster. Not only won't it be painful, it will feel good, and you'll feel good because you can do it. And the pounds will disappear like magic. You may have to walk, a little faster (but not too fast), for a few years before you really start to slim down, but think of all you'll see along the way!

If you want to get stronger, pick up a couple of light dumbells and lift them and get the feel of them. They start at 2 and 1/2 pounds or so and go up to amounts you don't want to think about. No matter what weight you pick -- and it will feel good playing with them -- you will be doing something more than what you were doing before. Again, that's exercise.

When was the last time you hung from a bar? You don't even have to do a pull-up (though that should be your ultimate goal). Just hang there. Support your bodyweight by the strength in your shoulders and back. Hang as long as you can, then let go. You've done something more than what you were doing before. Exercise.

Squat down as far as you can, back against the wall. It may be a foot or more; it may be an inch.
Hold it. Count to whatever. Lift yourself back up. Now do it again. You're exercising, and the results will show if you give them time.

You don't have to suffer to get into better shape. Just do more than you're doing. At your own pace. No stress. You will be amazed at how much better you feel. And you won't even have noticed the change because you're doing it exactly the way it suits you best.

Not that many things we get for free in this life, with so little effort. Exercise. Embrace it.