Deciding what kind of time you have #podcast

“What’s the rush? Why is it so important for you to get to market?”

What is the rush? Why am I seeking investor capital (a.k.a money) and going all-in?

I could take a less riskier path—maintain focus on my day job (life/progress coach + strategist) and continue building Recollect on the side.

There are a lot of paths I could take. It’s hardly a binary choice between the two options above.

The reason I want to keep moving and go all-in is because I’ve decided how I want to use the time I have.

I think back to a story told by one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott. She was my age (38). Her dear friend, Pammy, was terminally ill—yet still rallied in her wig and wheelchair to accompany Anne on a shopping trip.

As Anne described, she was trying on a dress that was tighter and shorter than usual because she was trying to impress some guy. So she asked Pammy, “Do you think this (dress) makes my hips look too big?

Pammy replied with some of the best life advice ever: “Anne, you don’t have that kind of time.”

This has stuck with me.

It crosses my mind often, especially when I’m choosing how brave I want to be.

As far as I can tell, I’m in excellent health, come from very strong genes, and am on track to live another 40, 50 years—easy. But I don’t know that’s the case. I don’t know how much time I have. So I’ve become ever more particular with what I decide to do with it.

One answer to what’s the rush? is: I’d rather risk money than time.


This is the truest answer in the best way I can articulate it right now:

Because I have this intrinsic current, an internal force that feels like it’s pulling me toward the vision I can see so clearly. I feel like a human divining rod, who has found her place. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. I don’t question it. I trust it completely and I know in my bones it’s going to work. More than work, it’s going to be big. It’s going to matter.

So slowing down, while less risky financially, seems like exiting off the freeway to take the surface streets. It’s doesn’t support the momentum that’s been building for months and months now.

And I don’t think I could stand it. Having survived four major depressions over the years (last one in 2007), I know how risky it is for me to not speak my truth, believe my truth, and live it. For me, it’s life-threatening.

I’ve decided I don’t have time for that.

Because I don’t want to have time for that.

Every cell in my being says, “Gooooooooooooooooo!”

I trust that—that knowing in my body—more than anything else in the world. More than any other person, more than any business book or spiritual text. When I’ve trusted in myself, my life has spiraled upward. When I’ve dismissed my knowing for others’ well intended advice, I’ve regretted it.

I am blessed right now to learn from some amazing mentors, coaches, experienced operators, and sources of human inspiration. I’m meeting more and more folks each week. I ask loads of questions and genuinely want to hear their advice and experiences. I do my best to listen well.

After which, I return to myself and let their words sink in. I see what rings true with my knowing and what falls away. Then I decide how I want to proceed.

It’s one thing for me to practice this when it’s just me. When I’m a single woman without children (by choice, fret not) nor official employees, it’s a easier for me to trust that knowing and decide accordingly.

Odds are, it’s going to take more and more courage as I go to trust in myself and what I know.

To me, courage is muscular. As we exercise it, we build it. We become progressively stronger and it gets easier and easier to do what we struggled to do before.

So, I choose to be brave. I choose to work my courage muscles on the daily.

Part of my practice is listening to my knowing and then deciding what kind of time I have.

I’ve made my decision.

Amy Jones