Maybe There Is Enough Time

How small shifts in thinking can change how you experience your days. 

Do you wish you had more time? What if you could stretch or shrink it? 

We already do this. When we're in pain, ten minutes can feel like an hour, while a week on an amazing trip can pass in what seems like two days. Time, as we experience it, seems fixed but is deeply personal. Our perception of time shapes our reality more than the clock does. 

Yet many of us still hold the Newtonian view: time is finite, moves at a constant rate, and is always running out. In The Big Leap, Gay Hendricks describes how this belief—"there’s never enough time”—creates stress and urgency. He suggests shifting to Einstein time, where time feels more flexible and within our influence. 

Embracing this mindset does not mean ignoring the clock. It means changing our relationship with time. When we take responsibility for how we experience time—by being present and intentional—we often find greater focus, creativity, and even a sense of abundance rather than limitation. 

I am especially aware of this now, as I am currently visiting my 94-year-old dad in Japan. Since his recent cancer diagnosis, I find myself thinking about how much time I have left with him. My mind naturally drifts into that familiar narrative: “I am only here for less than a month.” “It is not enough.” “What if this is the last time I see him?” 

Meanwhile, my dad seems to live comfortably in Einstein time. “I’ve lived long enough,” he says. “I just walk slowly at my own pace, taking breaks when I need to.” Or, “I have plenty of time to work on my garden.” There is no rush. No urgency. Just a quiet acceptance of what is, and a steady presence in each moment. 

I am not always able to stay in that spacious, unhurried mindset. But I am learning to catch myself when urgency takes over and gently ask, “What would this moment feel like if I believed I had enough time?” 

As I sit with my dad, I am reminded that maybe this time is not meant to be measured, counted, or judged as “enough.” Maybe it is simply meant to be lived—one slow step, one quiet moment, one shared breath at a time. That small shift does not change the clock—but it changes everything about how I experience the time I have. 

If this way of thinking about time feels unfamiliar, you are not alone. Many of my clients come to me feeling overwhelmed and pressed for time, only to discover that small shifts in how they approach their days can create more space than they expected. It is not about doing more—it is about experiencing your time differently. 

What is one small way you can experience your time differently today?