Time is not my enemy anymore. It took me three solid months to admit it, but time is finally a friend. Not a good friend, mind you. One of those “acquaintance friends” but we are in the early stages right now. I’m hoping we become besties.
As I reflect back on my professional life, it’s a story of always chasing. When I was in my 20s and a young reporter, I had all of the energy in the world. There were seasons where I worked 9-10 hours a day and I didn’t really even notice it. Work was fun and it gave me something to do. Plus, I was so darned poor and with so much student loan debt that work was a way to dig myself out. As I hit my 30s, I wanted two things: professional and financial success. I was ready for jobs with greater responsibility and greater renumeration, candidly. I became a CEO at 37 and the rest of my 30s and 40s was a constant learning/challenge period. When the “buck” finally rests with you, there is a sense of responsibility and duty that can be a bit all-encompassing. I had to make good decisions – others’ livelihoods depended on it.
I semi-retired for the first time at 49 for an employed, albeit part-time consulting gig. Quickly, I learned that consulting itself is all-encompassing and 80% FTE was easily comparable to full-time. I backed down once to 75% then again to 60%. It wasn’t enough. The firm I was with was going through a number of changes as it transitioned from a mid-sized firm to a large firm and I was ready to slow down again. Since 40-50% FTE seemed silly and I was probably a little more discontented than I realized, I left two years ago and started my own firm with the goal of working around 40% – at most – a week. These days, I do pretty good at managing that pace.
Throughout it all and in the background, we were doing renovations that started in my waning days as a CEO and continued through my employed consulting tenure. For the very big, complicated things, we used contractors. For the smaller projects, we did it ourselves. We made ourselves a “cash only” promise so the projects happened in fits and starts but in the end, it became a whole-house renovation. From re-landscaping the front yard and a new driveway, to geothermal and solar panels to a new kitchen and two new bathrooms and hardwood floors throughout, we were constantly in flux. Even “small” projects like changing out all of the window and door trim and installing new interior doors became projects. If it sounds exhausting, you’re not wrong. It was exhausting.
In November, we finished our deck and thanks to our earlier Great Renovation Compact of May 2025, we hung up our tools at least for a year. There is still a punch list to finish, but we had finished this particular marathon. In December, a spate of kitty illnesses and one terminal illness meant the holidays turned into a lot of bittersweet celebrations and one final goodbye just after the New Year. For a little while, the hurt was so acute that thinking about all of the free time we suddenly had felt crass and meaningless.
But gradually, life crept back in. First, it was a few date nights that we hadn’t had time for. Then, a game night with friends. We returned to the gym and I started running regularly again. We headed out, first to NOLA in February and then Orlando in March. In between? Life stayed relatively calm. At first, it was just minutes that felt like they opened up and then, amazingly, hours. Now? Full days of no plans stretch in front of us. Today is one such day. There really isn’t anything I have to do besides make dinner. I’ve now read one book in the last two weeks and I have three more on the way. (I like a book… not a Kindle. I’m old-school that way.)
That’s when it hit me: it’s time to admit it. Time is a friend. As sworn enemies for so long, we are now buddies. And here’s what I need to guard against: I need to stop chasing time. Just like when you’re dating and looking for love, it’s best to just get on with your life and love will find you. I need to do the same with time. These days, I waste hours planning retirement and dreaming of those days when we can take down our shingles for good. But I really need to dig deep and ask myself why. This week, I’ve worked about 10 hours and those were satisfying hours where I made a contribution, provided insight and did good things. But I also cleaned my house, attended a lecture on the history of the town I grew up in and supported a family member going through a personal (but good) challenge. After a career marked by chasing the “what’s next?”, I now need to relax and enjoy the moment.
I’m not going to lie… that’s gonna be hard. I actually feel a little lost and possibly more than a little lazy. For example, there are things I should and could do – some laundry, some light housekeeping – and I just don’t feel like it. Then, there are the things I’m used to defaulting to: where do I need to spend money, what do I need at the home improvement store, what is my next business pursuit? There is zero – none – of that to do right now. The money is spent and the house is done. I even have the new weathering steel chiminea on its way to adorn our new deck. I don’t need a darned thing at the home improvement store. And finally, through a series of luck and a little hustle, I have plenty of work for now and work out on the horizon for when the now work is done.
A mentor once told me that the hardest lesson in life is learning to be still, particularly for overachievers and responsibility junkies. I get it now. I have to learn to be still and I’ll put it out there: it’s not comfortable. Instead, I want to chase even greater time and even greater quiet and calm. But for the very first time in my life, I’m asking the next question: what happens when I get there? If I actually achieve the greatest capacity of time, what happens? Do I start chasing chaos again? Do I get bored or dissatisfied?
With everything in me, I think it’s time to embrace where I am and finally say “enough”. This well and truly could be my sweet spot in life. My mind whirls too fast and I’m not sure I can ever be truly happy in full retirement with nothing to do. Perhaps even more importantly, I’m learning that I’m running out of chances to finally learn to stop chasing the next thing.
And that’s where I am today.
I picture myself and time as two socially awkward people meeting face-to-face for the first time because we were sat next to each other. We both know I’ve talked smack about time in the past and now regret it. As much as I rush to apologize to time, I see time looking back warily, waiting for the next time I betray my apologies. I get it, time. I do. I really am going to try and do better but let’s face it: I’m an old dog and this is a big new trick for me to learn.
The Yuppie Homesteader 