My youngest son is applying to college. His older brother is halfway through.
We were talking through his applications when I said it out loud. I heard the shock in my own voice.
How are we already here?
He nodded.
It was an honest nod. He understood every word.
Time moves fast, Dad. Got it.
I don’t think he could. He will.
I’m in no position to judge. I gave that same nod for most of my life.
My parents told me time would speed up. They still say it to this day.
Every time, I nodded.
I nodded at books too.
In 2022, I highlighted a line from Sean Webb: we can only truly understand what we’ve personally experienced.
I agreed. I filed it. I went back to work.
There’s a difference between understanding and getting it.
Understanding lives in your head.
Getting it shows up years later, without asking permission. Sometimes as a shock in your own voice.
For me, it showed up this year.
Putting my thoughts on paper brought these overlapping shifts into focus.
My parents are getting older. My sons are building lives of their own. The work I’ve done for twenty years is changing, and AI is speeding that change up.
I have a date circled on my calendar in 2031, the year I can potentially step away from that career and toward whatever comes next.
It used to feel far away.
All of it arrived together.
When it comes to time, the nod is gone.
And yes, getting it made me want to cram more in.
Understand more. Learn more. Get to all of it.
There isn’t room for all of it.
Here’s a small example.
For years I gave real hours to sports.
Sports radio.
Fantasy football every fall.
Following every move.
Most of that has faded. I didn’t quit it.
I just stopped reaching for it.
I’m still a Jets fan. Some loyalties don’t need a reason. Ask any Jets fan.
Those hours didn’t stay empty for long. Other things moved in. Good things. Things that matter. More of them than the hours I got back.
So the question changed. It used to be how much I could fit. Now it’s what deserves the space.
I thought that would be a one-time realization. It’s turning into a practice. A sorting I keep doing, week after week.
Which brings me to the hard one.
I value my relationships deeply. I’ve also always struggled to be the one who reaches out, even with close friends.
My friend Sean lives in North Carolina. We’ve been friends for years and years. Every so often I feel the urge.
I need to call him.
And I don’t.
Sean is one name. There are others.
I caught myself nodding again.
Getting it about time closed one gap. It showed me the next one.
The one I keep writing about.
Knowing what matters seems to be the easier part.
Giving it the time it deserves is the part I haven’t figured out. I get it about time. I’m still learning to spend it as if I do.
My son will probably nod at this too, if he reads it.
That’s fine. I’m still nodding at a few things myself.
What are you still nodding at?