The Ticking of the Clock Grows Louder

I have lived an extraordinary life, initially blessed with a remarkable family that adopted me as a baby. They provided opportunity, comfort, and the wisdom to learn from my own mistakes. Guided into Boy Scouts and supported in all my endeavors, I discovered early on the power and freedom of earning my own money. My parents encouraged this independence without obstructing my path.

Travel marked my youth, thanks to my father’s long tenure with TWA. By age 12, I was a seasoned traveler, exploring the globe and absorbing its diverse cultures. This exposure instilled in me both confidence and an impatience to grow up, to chase the next job, passion, or learning opportunity. Looking back, there’s an exciting, almost manic buzz around those formative years.

Through the years, I juggled multiple jobs to fund my ventures, starting numerous businesses with varying degrees of success. The dot-com boom introduced me to peers who shared my excitement for the transformative potential of the internet. Feeling somewhat secure financially, I then began the family chapter of my life, meeting my incredible wife through the very technology we all celebrated.

Despite my entrepreneurial drive, fatherhood brought a newfound responsibility as a provider. This shift was my first real conflict between personal ambition and familial duty. Launching a new electric vehicle business as my four children were born, I sometimes questioned if a steady paycheck would have been wiser than chasing dreams. Yet, looking back, I realize there was no other path I could have followed without regret.

Now in my 60s, I sense another chapter unfolding. Though unsure of the exact direction, I explored starting another business and launched a pickleball company with my wife. Then, my children’s accident changed everything. Time slowed, each tick of the clock loud and clear, optimism shrouded by a heavy blanket of fear I struggled to shed.

Entrepreneurs often joke about lacking a “risk management gene,” focusing on opportunities over pitfalls. Yet, something has shifted. Perhaps this change began before the accident, but the event accelerated my introspection, altering my perception of time. Previously, I rushed from one milestone to the next, but now I’m acutely aware of life’s finiteness.

The past decade has been about undoing years of neglect from my workaholic days—improving my diet, taking better care of my health. Yet, I’ve never been more conscious of time’s passage. I aim to savor each moment more fully, not just rush through them.

Balancing the role of a provider with being present for family activities has always been a challenge. I reflect on whether my career’s demands justified missing out on precious family moments. As I write, I wonder if I’m rationalizing past choices.

Facing a swiftly ticking clock, I strive to avoid autopilot, to live each day intentionally. While the drive to balance begins to strengthen, I balance it with lessons learned from observing my father and others: life begins to fade the moment you stop engaging passionately with the world.

As I ponder the next chapter, I don’t have all the answers, but I am keenly aware of the questions. Treating this phase like any other challenge, I hope to navigate it with thoughtful intention. Writing this helps me sort through my priorities, aiming to reach life’s end with a deep appreciation for a life well lived and a family assured of their worth through my actions and words.

Tick… tick… tick…