The Jar of Marbles
A reflection on time, fear, and the courage to begin
Have you ever stopped to wonder how many Saturdays you may have left? I recently did a simple piece of maths that stopped me in my tracks. If the average man lives to about 82 years, that means a life contains roughly 4,264 Saturdays.
At first, that number sounds enormous. But when you reach your early sixties, as I have, the maths looks very different. More than 3,000 of those Saturdays have already passed. Which means, if the averages hold, I may have just over 1,100 Saturdays left.
When that number first landed with me, I paused for a moment. 1,100.
That suddenly did not feel like a lifetime. It felt like a countdown. Not a frightening one, but a clarifying one. A reminder that time is not abstract. It is finite. Almost like a jar of marbles slowly emptying.
That image takes me straight back to childhood. Many of us may remember playing marbles. It was a childhood game in my generation. Those beautiful little balls of glass, colours swirling inside them like miniature galaxies. We would crouch in the sand, knuckles down, eyes narrowed in concentration.
The goal was simple. Strike your marble just right and knock another player’s marble out of the circle. The warm sun on your back. A gentle breeze shifts the dusty air of a summer afternoon. Bliss.
Back then, the world felt endless. Time felt infinite. But time has a way of quietly passing. Before you know it, the years stack up. And one day you realise the pile of Saturdays ahead of you is smaller than the pile already behind you.
And perhaps that is why the number hit me so hard. Because it exposed not only how fast time moves, but how often fear has quietly negotiated with my future. Fear has a subtle way of influencing our decisions. Often quietly. Often disguised as logic. Often dressed up as responsibility.
Back in 2004, a dream began knocking on my heart. A quiet but persistent thought:
“One day… you should start your own business.”
But I am naturally risk-averse. At the time, Zimbabwe's economic fortunes were collapsing, and uncertainty was everywhere. Starting something new did not feel responsible. So, I stayed in corporate. At least, that is what I told myself. Some of that was wisdom. Some of it, if I am honest, was fear. Later, we immigrated.
I was fortunate to find a role in an organisation I truly loved, and I spent many good years there. Yet the dream never went away. Now and then, it would return. Quietly. “When are you going to do this?”
Eventually, I decided. In 2019, I told myself: “Right. 2020 will be the year.”
Then COVID arrived.
Plans paused, as they did for millions of people around the world. But the whisper did not disappear. And finally, in 2022, I took the plunge. I stepped out on my own. And I can honestly say I am loving every minute of it. Helping people grow. It has become a mission that energises me every day.
With the clarity of hindsight, two things stand out:
We probably should have immigrated sooner.
And I probably should have started this journey sooner.
But here is the truth life keeps teaching me: There is never a perfect time.
Waiting for perfect conditions is often fear wearing a clever disguise. Because choosing not to do something… is still a decision. We do not lose life all at once. We lose it one Saturday at a time. Life is a sacred journey. We only get to travel it once.
As Jim Rohn famously said: “Do all you can with all you have.”
If I could add one more line to that wisdom, it would be this: Do it as soon as you can.
Because the marbles are quietly disappearing. One Saturday at a time. Thankfully, I still have marbles left. Enough to pursue a renewed mission. Enough to try and make a small difference. Enough to help unleash the potential in others.
And if you are reading this, chances are you still have marbles left, too.
Every Saturday, my wife and I go for a walk. Nothing dramatic. Just a quiet walk together. But over time, I have come to realise that this weekly walk is more than exercise. It is a reminder. A reminder that time is not measured only in years. It is measured in moments. Life does not disappear all at once.
It disappears quietly…
One week at a time.
One day at a time.
One hour at a time.
One minute at a time.
One second at a time.
So, while there are still marbles in the jar, do not wait for the perfect time.
Make the phone call.
Start the thing.
Take the walk.
Say the words.
Begin.
Make a moment.
Lead boldly. Love wisely. Live your legacy.
Gary Good
Founder — LeaderLegacy