What Is Enough?

On success, time, priorities and learning to build a life around what matters most.

For a long time, I was very good at being busy.

I worked hard. I planned. I made lists. I solved problems.

Those things came naturally to me.

I built a career I was proud of, and eventually I was earning more money than I ever imagined I would.

On paper, things looked pretty good.

But somewhere along the way, I started asking myself a question that had very little to do with career success.

What is enough?

When Success Takes a Lot of Your Time

There were years when work occupied an enormous part of my life.

At one point, I was commuting about three hours a day between St. Albert and Wabamun.

Later came consulting work in Calgary and Fort McMurray. Twelve-hour shifts. Flights. Camp life. Travel days.

I could do it.

In fact, I was pretty good at it.

But being capable of doing something and wanting to continue doing it forever are two very different things.

I began thinking less about how much I could accomplish and more about what all of it was costing in something I couldn't earn back.

Time.

That realization didn't arrive all at once.

There wasn't one dramatic morning when I woke up and suddenly knew exactly what I wanted my life to look like.

It was more gradual than that.

A question that kept returning.

How much is enough?

And perhaps more importantly:

What do I want enough of?

Of Course, I Made a Spreadsheet

Anyone who knows me well will probably not be surprised by what happened next.

I did the numbers. 😂

I'm a numbers geek and a planner, so simply saying, “I'd like to have more freedom someday” wasn't going to cut it.

I wanted to understand what was actually possible.

I made spreadsheets. I looked at our expenses. I ran different scenarios and investment-return assumptions. I updated the numbers month after month.

I wasn't trying to figure out how to have the most.

I was trying to figure out what was enough.

Because underneath all those numbers was something that couldn't really be measured in a spreadsheet:

The kind of life I wanted those numbers to make possible.

Once I had an idea of what enough looked like financially, I could start thinking about everything else.

How did I want to spend my time?

What did I want my days to feel like?

What was I willing to keep trading my time for?

And what was I no longer willing to trade it for?

Those questions turned out to matter far more than the number at the bottom of my spreadsheet.

Enough Looks Different for Everyone

This is the part I think matters most.

My version of enough isn't anyone else's formula.

For me, eventually, it meant being able to retire at 54.

For someone else, it might mean changing careers.

Working four days instead of five.

Having dinner with family more often.

Travelling.

Starting a little business.

Spending more time outside.

Making room for something creative.

Or staying in a career they genuinely love while becoming much more protective of the rest of their time.

There isn't one right answer.

And priorities aren't necessarily permanent either. What matters deeply to us at 30 may look different at 50 or 60.

I think the important part is simply stopping occasionally to ask the question.

What matters to me now?

Not what is supposed to matter.

Not what looks successful from the outside.

Not what everyone else seems to be doing.

What actually matters to me?

The Funny Thing About Retirement

I had spent so many years working that you'd think I would have been brilliant at doing nothing.

I wasn't. 😂

For much of my working life, there was always something that needed my attention. A project. A deadline. A problem to solve. Somewhere to be.

Then suddenly there was space.

And space can feel surprisingly strange when you've spent years filling every available corner of your life.

My first year of retirement included travel and simply enjoying the freedom I'd worked toward.

By the second year, I started learning more about jewelry.

There wasn't some grand plan to create Plein de Vie.

I certainly wasn't sitting there thinking, “Excellent. Phase two of my carefully calculated retirement strategy: become a silversmith.”

It happened much more naturally than that.

I became curious.

I took classes.

I learned.

I made things.

And slowly, something I loved began occupying some of that space I'd worked so hard to create.

There was no grand business plan behind it.

Just curiosity, one class after another, and the pleasure of learning how to make something with my own hands.

That curiosity eventually became Plein de Vie Jewelry — and today, I even get to share a little of that experience with others through my Plein de Vie Studio Sessions.

Priorities Have a Way of Showing Up in Ordinary Days

I think my old definition of priorities was probably tied to big decisions.

Career.

Money.

Where to live.

When to retire.

And those things certainly matter.

But these days, I notice priorities much more in ordinary life.

Having coffee while looking out at the lake.

Walking outside with Marley.

Working in my studio because I want to be there.

Having time for Merv, my daughter and the people I love.

Noticing the balsamroot when it appears again in spring.

Making something simply because an idea has been rolling around in my head and I want to see where it goes.

None of those things would look particularly impressive on a résumé.

That's rather the point.

And somewhere among those ordinary days, the things I make in my studio have become part of the life I once worked so hard to make room for. My handcrafted sterling silver jewelry is one expression of that — but the freedom to spend my days creating is perhaps the bigger gift.

The Real Value of Knowing What Matters

I used to think about priorities in terms of helping us find purpose, manage our time, make better decisions and avoid regret.

I still believe those things.

But I think I'd say it more simply today.

Knowing what matters makes it easier to know what doesn't.

It doesn't mean every decision becomes easy.

It doesn't mean life suddenly follows the plan.

Mine certainly hasn't.

It simply gives you something to come back to when life gets noisy.

I've changed careers.

I've moved.

I've worked incredibly hard.

I've changed plans.

I've retired.

I've learned an entirely new craft.

And somewhere in all of that, I've become much more comfortable deciding what deserves my time — and what doesn't.

That journey — from wondering where my life was going to allowing myself to begin something entirely new — is also part of why I wrote You Don't Have to See the Whole Path to Begin.

Sometimes the next step really is enough.

So, What Is Enough?

I don't think this is a question we answer once.

Our lives change.

We change.

What we need changes.

What brings us joy changes.

So perhaps every once in a while, it's worth asking again:

What is enough for me now?

Enough work.

Enough money.

Enough things.

Enough obligations.

And then the other side of the question:

What would I like more of?

More time.

More people I love.

More creativity.

More laughter.

More mornings that aren't rushed.

More ordinary moments I'm actually present enough to notice.

I spent a lot of years planning for the life I have now.

And it doesn't look exactly the way I would have predicted.

I'm rather glad it doesn't.

Because figuring out my priorities was never really about constructing the perfect life.

It was about creating enough space to actually live it.

Life is short. Decide what matters. And make room for it.