It was a leisurely afternoon with friends on a pontoon boat sitting under an awning to protect us from the sun. We drifted slowly across Lake Cachuma chatting about life, listening to music, and eating home made foods.
Another person and I gravitated easily to talking about business as we floated along, a subject we obviously enjoyed. I had met her once before. She runs her own specialty food company. At some point she turned to me all serious and asked, “Could you stop working?” Although she is younger than me by a few years, I guessed she is wrangling with the question for herself.
I responded yes. She then asked what not working would give me, and I surprised myself with the answer. Space.
She quickly interjected, ah yes, more time to do what you want to do. I nodded slowly but that didn’t quite capture what I was saying. Time is something I make. I make time for something because I made a commitment to do it.