Running Out of Mind
Something feels like it’s speeding up. But it’s not the clock—and not exactly you. Everyone’s trying to catch up, but no one seems sure what we’re chasing. What if the problem isn’t speed at all, but how we’re experiencing the pace?
On Time, Perception, and Presence
What if I told you that I spend money every day without ever checking my bank balance? I just assume it’ll somehow replenish itself by morning. You'd probably call me reckless, irresponsible, even a little delusional.
But what if I told you everyone does the exact same thing—not with money, but with time?
We live as though tomorrow is guaranteed. We spend today freely, assuming we'll wake up tomorrow with a fresh balance of hours. But unlike our bank account, there’s no way to check our time balance. We just carry on, treating time like free refills at a diner that’s turning off the lights.
“Time is what we want most, but what we use worst.” William Penn
Sahil Bloom, in his book The Five Types of Wealth: A Transformative Guide to Design Your Dream Life, asks a striking question:
Would you swap places with Warren Buffett?
At first glance, it might sound like a no-brainer. Buffett is worth over $100 billion and able to access virtually anything money can buy. But he’s also 94 years old.
So you need to ask yourself: would his wealth make up for the years you’d be giving up? For most people, the answer is no. What good is endless wealth if you’re short on the time to enjoy it?
Of course, there are exceptions. Maybe you’re already in your 90s, staring down hospital bills, and thinking, "Sure, give me his bank account." In that case, the trade might actually make sense.
Now let’s move on to something more practical. Have you ever considered what it would mean to own your time—not just for a day, but in the context of your actual life, your bills, your family?
Because if you strip it down, it’s not about how much money you want. It’s about how much you need to stop selling your hours. That’s where your Number for Freedom comes in.
Your Number for Freedom is the amount you need to live your current lifestyle without working (at least full time) for a duration you choose. It's not about being rich. It’s about reclaiming your time.
To calculate it, first add up your annual living expenses. Then multiply that figure by the number of years you want complete freedom from work. That number could buy you a sabbatical, an early retirement, or just a year to breathe without panic.
Number for Freedom is the number you need to avoid exchanging your time for money for a while.
You don’t need millions to begin. Even small decisions can help reclaim your hours. Say hiring someone to clean your home costs $50 per week and saves you two hours. Over a year, that's 104 hours—two full weeks. Enough to write a short novel, launch a side hustle, or just finally exhale. If your hourly rate is above $50, it's a logical trade.
But reclaiming time is only half the battle. What you do with it is the real investment.
Sahil Bloom defines five forms of wealth in his book The Five Types of Wealth: time, social, mental, physical, and financial. Time wealth is the ability to control your time and spend it how you choose. Social wealth is the strength and depth of your relationships. Mental wealth includes clarity, learning, and the ability to make sound decisions. Physical wealth is your health, energy, and physical capability. Financial wealth is the money and assets that give you options.
Time is the common currency that impacts them all. How you allocate it—toward relationships, learning, exercise, or work—directly shapes how each domain of your life develops. When used intentionally, it can enrich all those areas.
That’s what I discovered during my stay at a Buddhist monastery in Scotland, the one I didn’t even want to visit.
The most valuable asset isn’t money. It’s time. Presence. Attention. A moment of genuine peace. A sense of togetherness, alrightness, humbling acceptance.
Our connection, both inward and with the world around us, is what gives our moments meaning. Presence isn’t just pleasant or calming—it changes how we experience time.
Sitting in meditation for several hours each day, I noticed my perception of time changing. Hours no longer rushed by. They stretched, became richer. Like Einstein said, time isn't fixed; it's relative to our frame of reference.
And in that monastery, I stumbled onto a way to alter my own frame. My perception of time slowed as my presence deepened. So I realized:
I can’t slow down time itself, but I can slow down my perception of it.
That shift didn’t vanish when I left the cushion. It lingered in how I noticed the world, made decisions, felt moments pass.
Eventually, I distilled the experience into 3 truths:
1. Presence Slows Time
Presence isn’t something you master. It’s something you practice. When you listen without battling, the chaos quiets. Your nervous system slows. Time expands. Even ten minutes of full attention—on your breath, surroundings, or a simple task—can shift your experience.
You don’t need hours of meditation to feel this shift. You don’t need to quit your job or book a one-way ticket to Bali. Start small…maybe put your phone down for ten minutes. Or, try brushing your teeth without multitasking. No scrolling. Just mint, bristles, foam. Let the moment thicken. Time might surprise you.
2. Focus Deepens the Moment
Like most people, I multitask constantly. But each day, I choose one task to do fully. For me, that’s writing and walking my dog. Both slow me down. Writing dissolves the world around me; walking helps me reconnect with it. Step by step, I reconnect with my surroundings—the trees, the sounds, or the sand-covered sidewalk near the ocean. It grounds me in the moment and reorients my attention outward. Time softens.
What brings you to presence? It could be cooking, sketching, fixing something with your hands...whatever pulls you into the now. Choose one not to get it done, but to feel time stretch while you do it.
3. Adopt New Moments or New Eyes
Last weekend I flew a microlight aircraft—basically an oversized hairdryer with wings. As it sputtered and clattered to life, I couldn’t quite believe it would lift off. Yet, it did. My instructor handed me the controls mid-air. My heart lurched. Every second stretched into hours. Time expanded. That’s what novelty does.
Saying that, novelty isn’t limited to extraordinary adventures. You can find novelty in ordinary moments. Like having a morning coffee with a loved one, being fully present. Noticing the steam. The mug's warmth. The aroma. True presence makes even one minute feel abundant.
We often treat hours like obstacles. But every choice shapes our experience of time. Through presence, attention, and novelty, we can slow time—not in theory, but in lived reality.
Time is life’s hidden bank account—precious, limited, and impossible to check in real time. You never know the balance, but you spend from it every day. And every withdrawal is final.
So I’ll ask you again: How will you spend your next precious hour?