I’m standing in front of the mirror again, and my reflection has that look—that blank, detached stare. I know it all too well.
I remember when I thought I knew exactly what I wanted from life: earn a physics degree, dive into research, and unravel the mysteries of the universe. It all felt like destiny back then, like everything was aligning perfectly toward that one grand goal.
But life has a way of throwing curveballs, doesn’t it? Out of nowhere, a new desire bubbled up: maybe I should write a book. Or maybe someday I’ll just pack up, move to the countryside, and spend my days in quiet reflection. It’s as if every time I think I’ve found The One Path, some new direction starts calling my name, urging me to pivot.
It’s funny how fickle we can be. And frustrating, too. Part of me wants to grab myself by the shoulders and yell, “Look, buddy, make up your mind!” But deep down, I know that’s not how we’re wired. We humans rarely maintain a single unwavering goal from cradle to grave. Even when we wish we could, our restless hearts often crave something else.
And maybe that’s okay. Maybe real freedom isn’t about having all the choices laid out in front of us all at once—it’s about having the luxury to choose again, to redefine ourselves whenever we feel the need.
But there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. Part of us craves novelty, spontaneity—the “thrill of possibility.” Another part longs for stability, continuity, and something reliable to lean on. It’s like wanting the excitement of a puppy chasing butterflies while also yearning for the comfort of a cozy kennel and guaranteed meals. And balancing those two parts of ourselves? That’s where the tension lies.
Society and the Price of Security
Let’s step back for a moment—way back—and picture our ancestors. Imagine them wandering the wild like free birds. No offices. No traffic jams. No boss breathing down their necks. Sounds lucky, right?
Well, yes and no. Sure, they could roam wherever they pleased, do whatever they wanted. But that freedom came at a cost: it was precarious. A saber-toothed cat, a sudden famine, or a disease could wipe them out without warning. Freedom didn’t come with safety.
So, at some point, they made a trade-off: Freedom is good, but survival is better. They came together, formed tribes, and forged agreements: “I’ll protect you if you protect me. I’ll learn to grow food if you learn to build shelter.” And thus, society was born.
But society doesn’t come free. It requires structure and roles. It demands a fee in personal freedom. No longer could you gallivant across the plains picking berries at 3 PM just because you felt like it. Suddenly, you had obligations. Jobs, families, social rules. Suddenly, you were part of a system.
And that’s where we still are today. Sure, the setting has changed—we now have skyscrapers instead of huts and 401(k)s instead of bartering—but the fundamental trade-off remains. You can’t just unsubscribe from society’s newsletter, because (1) you need money to live, (2) you care about people who also care about you, and (3) society’s design—you may not like it—but you can’t revolutionize it entirely in your own lifetime.
The Grand Currency of Life: Time
Here’s a question: What’s the most precious resource in life? Most people instinctively say money. After all, without it, how would you pay for rent, groceries, or that dream trip to Rome? But if you think about it, money isn’t truly finite. You can lose it, earn it back, borrow it, invest it.
Time, on the other hand, is the real currency of life. It’s brutally finite. You can’t store it, grow it, or withdraw extra from some cosmic bank account. Once you spend an hour, it’s gone forever, pulling you one step closer to the final check-out—whatever that might look like.
So, if time is your greatest resource, the real question becomes: How do you spend it in a way that feels worthwhile, so that you don’t reach the end with a sense of regret?
Your Personal Equation: Balancing Obligation and Freedom
Let’s simplify things. Picture your life as two big buckets of time:
- Obligation Time: The hours you spend on essentials—earning money, maintaining your home, taking care of loved ones, managing daily responsibilities.
- Freedom Time: The hours when you get to do what you actually want to do, simply because it sparks joy. Watching a sunset in the park, reading your favorite book, traveling, doodling art you don’t plan to sell, or just lying on the couch and letting your mind drift.
The goal isn’t to eliminate obligations. That’s neither realistic nor desirable. Instead, the aim is to optimize. How do you expand your Freedom Time without undermining the security that obligations provide?
We’ll figure that out some other day. But for now, here are a few hints:
- Choose wisely: Finding roles or avenues that pay enough (or simply enough for you) in fewer hours. That might mean finding the sweet spot in your career—working enough to cover what you need, but not so much that your entire life revolves around it.
- Reframe your costs: Do you really need the most expensive lifestyle? Or are there simpler ways to achieve the same happiness? It’s a bit like this: if you’d love to sip coffee while watching the sunset over Central Park, do you really need a million-dollar apartment with a balcony view? Or is parking yourself on a bench in the same park with a thermos of coffee 90% of that experience at 1% of the cost? Asking questions like that can free you from illusions of “I need to own it to enjoy it.” Sometimes, renting, borrowing, or just showing up is enough.
- Blur the line: If your job is actually something you love—awesome. Now “work time” can merge with “freedom time.” It’s the jackpot scenario but requires deep self-awareness to find or create such a niche. And it is okay, if you are not that lucky.
The Pull of Comparison
But let’s be honest: we’re social creatures. We compare ourselves to our neighbors, coworkers, and sometimes strangers on social media. This comparison can spiral out of control. Suddenly, you want a brand-new Tesla not because you’re a die-hard fan of electric cars, but because everyone else seems to be upgrading, and you feel left behind.
That’s the trap. That’s how you lose control of the equation. You end up sacrificing extra time and freedom just to chase someone else’s dream. Before you know it, you’re stuck with a heavier loan and the same sense of emptiness you started with. Plus a chunk of your precious time gone forever.
So here’s the litmus test: Is this truly my desire? Or is it the echo of someone else’s?
Reframing Obligations
Let’s not toss out obligations as if they’re purely negative. For instance, taking care of a sick loved one might look like an “obligation.” Still, it can be a tender, intimate experience that deepens your connection. Cooking dinner might be a “chore,” but it can also become a creative act—or time to bond with family or friends.
If you can reframe obligations as either (1) stepping stones to your bigger goals, or (2) quiet opportunities for joy and connection, then the line between obligation and freedom can blur in a beautiful way.
Adjusting the Equation Over Time
Remember, you’re not a statue. Your goals, desires, and needs will shift. Maybe in your twenties, you love the hustle of building a career. By your thirties or forties, you’d rather dial back the rat race to spend time with a partner, kids, or an artistic project. That’s normal. In fact, it’s healthy.
What matters is that you keep coming back to the question: Does my current approach align with what truly matters to me now? Don’t trap yourself in choices you made five or ten years ago if they no longer resonate with who you’ve become.
A Gentle Reminder Before It’s Too Late
You know how many people wait until they’re old and gray, lying in a hospital bed, to realize they spent their lives chasing all the wrong things? Let’s not be them.
Perhaps the biggest tragedy isn’t having regrets; it’s realizing too late that you never paused to question the path you were on. You spent so much time fitting into a mold that you never asked, “Does this mold even fit me?”
So let’s strike now—while we still have breath and capability—to craft a life that balances the need to serve society (and keep the lights on) with the yearning to explore, create, connect, or simply be.
Final Reflection: A Question More Than an Answer
By now, you might expect a neat conclusion—“Do this, and life will be perfect!” But life is rarely that tidy. Instead, let’s end with an invitation to reflect:
- What if you measured every major decision in terms of time spent versus meaning gained?
- What if you let go of comparisons and truly pursue what sparks your sense of wonder or contentment?
- What if obligations became purposeful building blocks, rather than tedious chains?
That’s it. No grand fireworks of certainty here—just a pathway of questions designed to prod you (and me, and my other self in the mirror) into deeper awareness. The center theme remains:
Time is finite. Life’s richness depends on balancing what you must do with what you love to do—and how honest you can be about where your desires come from.
And with that, I turn back to my reflection. So…maybe a simple bench in the park is enough after all? Sometimes, that’s all you need to taste the genuine sweetness of life. Everything else is just extra. So, off we go to the park then…with maybe a book or two in hand?
