Finding Time for Me

Even—maybe especially—in retirement, finding time for me isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

I do make time for myself in some ways. I walk every day, rain or shine. I work out regularly and do yoga or stretching most mornings, even if it’s just 15 or 20 minutes. I’ve created space at the end of each day for a quiet meditation, a moment to breathe, reflect, and give thanks. These rituals keep me grounded.

But still, I struggle to find time for the things that deeply nourish my soul—like journaling and being creative. Isn’t that interesting?

Perhaps the real issue isn’t finding time. Perhaps it’s making time—intentionally, unapologetically carving out space for the things that bring me joy. That kind of joy is not frivolous. It’s sacred. It’s fuel.

Take a look at this picture—the beautiful sky above the Camino. I dream of that place. I return to it in my mind often, to the wide-open spaces and the solace they offered. And yet, even on pilgrimage, with miles of solitude stretched before me, I struggled to find time to journal or create.

Why?

That’s the question I’ve been asking myself. What’s stopping me? A lack of confidence, perhaps. Or the fear of not doing it “right.” Fear of being imperfect. But I’m learning—slowly and gently—that the joy is not in perfection. The joy is in the doing. The showing up. The allowing.

So here’s my new intention: I will make time. I will sit with my journal and let the words pour out, messy and unfiltered. I will pick up a paintbrush or pen or whatever calls to me and just create. Not because it needs to be shared or admired. But because it makes me feel alive.

What joyful thing are you neglecting? What lights you up that you’ve been pushing to the side?

Please, don’t wait for the “perfect” time. That moment may never arrive. This life is yours—truly yours—and you get to shape it with joy. Make the time. You’re worth it.