Pop Quiz

Let’s do some math.

Not the kind you learned in school. The kind that hits you one quiet morning when you realize you won’t get to do this forever.

I'm forty-six. How many more years of stonework do I have left in me? No one knows how much time they’ve got, for anything, let alone stonework. But let’s take a guess.

Could I keep doing this physical work for another ten years? Maybe. If I stay healthy. If I take care of myself.

Fifteen? That puts me at sixty-one, which is wild to think about. But yeah, with some luck—good or bad, depending on how you look at it—it’s possible.

Twenty more years? I’d be sixty-six. There are guys still at it at that age. They’re rare, but they’re out there. Maybe I’ll be one of the few who gets that chance.

More than twenty? Well, my dad is 83 and still lobstering. It’s not out of the realm of possibility. Let’s say I get that kind of stretch. That’s generous.

Last year I worked on four projects. Some years, it's less. But let’s call four the average. That means I have, at most, eighty projects left in me.

Eighty.

Fifteen more years? Sixty projects.

Ten more years? Forty.

Somewhere between 0 and 80 projects. And that number is shrinking every day.

So here’s the question I’m asking myself:

Shouldn’t I make those projects count?
Shouldn’t I choose the ones that turn me on?
The ones that light me up?
And if they don’t show up on their own, shouldn’t I go make them happen?

I’m not talking about a frantic sprint. This isn’t about saying yes to everything in a panic. It’s about finding clarity. It’s about getting clear on what you want. It’s about taking responsibility for your choices.

For me, for however many projects I have left, that means this:
Work with great people.
Take on projects I love.
Charge enough to live well and do my best work.

How many projects do you have left?
What are you going to do with them?