CHICAGO — On an ordinary workday, a father mowed his lawn with his sons. A mother belted out Billy Joel tunes on a grand piano. A daughter cared for her elderly mother.

All of them were top executives who walked away from high-paying jobs at an age when many are just getting going — in their mid- to late 40s — to make new lives that suit them better.

Members of a privileged minority who can afford to stop working for pay, their motivations for jumping off the fast track are as varied as their personalities. What they share is a conviction that their worth extends beyond their roles as corporate strivers.

They are part of a broader trend in American life in which more workers are questioning the ways they spend their time and the trade-offs associated with demanding careers, workplace experts say. Watershed events such as the Sept. 11, 2001, terror attacks and corporate scandals spurred many to reassess their priorities.

"Many people have reached a point where going to work for a paycheck is not really cutting it anymore," said Anita Sharpe, co-founding editor of Worthwhile, an Atlanta-based magazine about meaningful work.

Executives who opt out are a special case. More often than not, they are high achievers who want to make more money, score more success or have greater impact in their chosen spheres. Only a handful walk away.

"Some have made more money than they expected," said Julie Daum, leader of Spencer Stuart's North American board services practice. "Some have been merged out of a job. Some have been as successful as they could have imagined and feel it's time to move to the next phase of their lives."

A healthy stock market and brisk merger activity are providing options. In July, Exelon Corp.'s executive vice president and chief administrative officer, Pamela Strobel, 52, announced she will take advantage of a severance package for executives who choose to leave this fall when the utility merges with New Jersey's Public Service Enterprise Group Inc.

"Had it not been for (the merger) I might have just kept going and not gone through any self-examination," Strobel said. "The package was sort of the knock in the head — 'Why would you be working this hard going forward?' I don't need to earn more money, I don't need to prove anything more."

Her choice is more common among women, whose careers often cycle between work and family. "They are more attuned to thinking about their life in phases rather than completely around work," Daum said.

But men also are opting out.

In February, Eric Lane, the No. 2 executive at The Men's Wearhouse Inc., a fast-growing retail chain, announced his retirement, effective in July, at age 44.

"You just look at it and say, 'How much more do you need?' " said Lane, who was mowing the lawn with his two sons on a recent morning — a chore he paid someone to do in his former executive life.

"For years, when something needed to be done, the kids would see Mom and me get on the phone and call somebody else to do it," he said. "It wasn't the way I grew up, and I don't like that environment for kids."

His decision to quit a 20-year retail career and move from the San Francisco Bay area to Eagle, Idaho, near Boise, was based on his desire to stop traveling and be home with his family. He and his wife, Marcia, had planned their move for several years.

"I anticipated when men retired, they (would) have adjustment issues," Marcia Lane said. "Not Eric. Day 1, he's living his dream. He's doing the things he hasn't done in forever — mowing the lawn with the kids, really simple, everyday things.

"He's much calmer," she said. "When he was 30 years old, he was a maniac, very career-driven. He was just very eager to succeed. Then he got there and he said, 'It isn't really what I thought it was going to be. There are so many other things I want to do.' "

A self-described "frustrated jock" who coached his sons' sports teams, the former president and chief operating officer signed up as defensive line coach for Eagle High School's football team. He consults with Men's Wearhouse and plans on doing some real-estate investing.

If his dream plays out, he will be ready to coach college sports when his sons finish high school. But mainly, he plans to enjoy his boys, ages 7 and 12.

"For me, I think the main goal of a parent should be to nurture their kids," he said. "I don't think delegating that task is the right thing."

Sometimes a career setback prompts re-evaluation.

Betty Beaty, 49, rose through the ranks at Honeywell Inc. before moving to Michigan in 1999 to join Whirlpool Corp. as corporate vice president and controller. Three years later, the company hired an outside executive to be chief financial officer rather than promoting her.

"(That event) allowed me to say, 'What do I want to do next?' " she recalled. "I decided I'd have more challenge and growth doing something totally different, which is staying home with my three kids."

Among the many activities she no longer forgoes are reading novels, studying genealogy, and attending Bible study and her children's sporting events. She and her husband cook dinner on alternate nights. He retired during one of their many moves for her career.

"We eat really well," she said. "That's very exciting. You're doing all new things that you didn't do for 25 years. Most people think that being a stay-at-home mom would be boring. I don't find it that way at all."

But not all executives find the transition easy.

Cheryl Francis had every intention of going back to work as a chief financial officer when she quit her CFO post at R.R. Donnelley & Sons Co. in 2000.

"As much as I love my kids and love having more time with them, that was not the driver," said the 51-year-old mother of two sons, one in high school, the other in college.

When she quit Donnelley at age 46, she was at the top of her game as a financial executive, but she felt mentally and physically drained.

"I was on a different page than the rest of the leadership team," she recalled. "I needed to get regrounded before I figured out what I wanted to do next.

"It was very hard. I've always been this goal-driven person. I let go of everything and decided to take it one step at a time and see where it would lead. It led to some pretty interesting things."

At her piano on a lull between appointments on a recent weekday, she practiced a Billy Joel tune that her youngest suggested she play. Francis tackles the keyboard in much the same way as she approaches life — with deliberate gusto.

Many of her activities exercise skills she honed during her corporate career. For instance, she heads the audit committees of Hewitt Associates Inc. and Morningstar Inc., helping the latter get ready to go public.

With former banker and Boston Consulting Group executive adviser Sheila Penrose, she co-founded a nonprofit business-academic forum, Corporate Leadership Center. The center collaborates with major corporations, foundations and academic institutions.

The center's first program, which partners with Northwestern University's Kellogg School of Management, will graduate its first class in November. Supporters include the McCormick Tribune Foundation, an independent nonprofit organization separate from Tribune Co. with substantial holdings in Tribune Co. stock.

Among the many beneficiaries of Francis' expertise: her church, United Way, YWCA and her alma maters, Cornell University and the University of Chicago Graduate School of Business.

"She's certainly much more relaxed, much more engaged in lots of different activities; she's happier, she's physically more beautiful than ever," said her husband, Zed Francis, managing director at Bank of America. "It really strengthened our marriage as well as the whole family."

The point at which she realized her life had turned a corner came more than a year ago, when recruiters' calls about a CFO opening at a large multinational failed to pique her interest.

"That just didn't hold an appeal for me anymore," she said. "To be so single-focused for me would be really hard."

Daum said Francis' decision is not uncommon.

"Most people, if they can put together a portfolio of activities, find it's very interesting rather than going back to a full-time job," Daum said.