The Simple Path
Greetings from Idaho, and welcome to the start of what I am thinking of as my Summer Vacation, beginning this June 1, 2026.
Today, I would normally do my monthly FIRE Metrics That Matter update, but I am en route to my home in the PNW and have not yet had the time to fully review last month’s experiences and results.
So today, I’m taking a version of the simple path.
I’m simply sharing what is on my mind.
Today would have been the birthday of one of my best friends, who sadly passed away in 2024. We were friends from 8th grade onward. It is still hard to believe he’s gone.
He was a robust and healthy guy for most of his life. He likely developed cancer in 2021 and was diagnosed in early 2022, but he remained active and engaged with life until the final months.
And then it was over.
Someday, that will be true for you and me as well.
There is a book I have been meaning to read called Four Thousand Weeks. The premise is simple: an average human life spans roughly 4,000 weeks.
That works out to about 77 years.
But what if you thought about your life in quarters instead?
You get four quarters each year.
Using a 77-year lifespan, that gives you a little over 300 quarters (308, to be exact). If you make it to 100, you get about 400.
That is not a lot of time when you look at it that way.
And depending on where you are in life, even at age 25, you have already used a significant number of those quarters.
But rather than drifting into existential dread about endings, let’s focus on what remains ahead of us.
Think about the next five years.
That is only 20 quarters.
What will you do with them?
Or perhaps an even better question:
What will you do with the next four quarters?
They will be behind you before you know it.
That is worth considering.
We are about to enter what I think of as the summer season in the Northern Hemisphere: June, July, and August.
I have plans for those months, and for September as well.
But yesterday, while driving, I realized something more important.
I wasn’t even sure what I was going to do tomorrow when I wake up at home.
Oh, I have plenty of things on my to-do list. Some are important. Some are urgent. My car is due for service, for example, and that matters because I plan to rely on it heavily this summer.
But if I truly remember that I have time freedom now—and stop “should-ing” all over myself—what actually makes the most sense for Tuesday?
Then it hit me.
My plan for the next quarter is not really about what I will do.
It is about what I will not do, and what I will do every day.
You see, I am attempting to take a somewhat Taoist approach to this next phase of life.
I want to systematically remove distractions and unhelpful habits that get in the way of being who I truly am.
And part of how I am doing that is by filling my waking hours with things that move me—in the sense that they help me appreciate, enjoy, and savor whatever time I have remaining.
Two of those things are already in place.
My two current One Hit Wonders:
Write and post a blog article every day for one year.
Walk an average of 15,000 steps per day, at least until I reach my target weight (and perhaps longer—TBD).
And you know what?
That is enough for now.
That is what I will do tomorrow before I add anything new.
Before I tackle the to-do list, schedule obligations, or add anything else.
I will write.
I will walk.
And then I will decide what Continues to stay in my life and what goes out.
Perhaps that is the simple path.
So here’s to my friend.
I wish he were still here enjoying life alongside the rest of us.
Since he cannot, perhaps the rest of us owe it to ourselves—and to those we have lost—to fully inhabit the time we still have.
What will you do tomorrow?