You don’t ‘find’ time. You choose it.

“I promise, I’ll find the time.”

I said it yesterday. Spontaneously. To a client.

And hearing myself say it, I stopped cold.

Find the time. As if it were being withheld. As if it belonged to someone else.

A word that gives everything away

My 24 hours are mine. No one else should be deciding how I use them.

And yet, by saying ‘I’ll find the time,’ I’m implying that the outside world controls it — and I just pick up what it leaves behind.

The worst version? ‘I need to find the time.’ Now I’ve turned something I already own into a demand I’m making of myself.

I say this to the executives and CHROs I work with every week. I say it to my family.

Turns out, I needed to hear it myself.

What shifts when you choose instead of ‘find’

My days — like yours — are full. Meetings I look forward to. Others I find draining. Nothing in my schedule would change if I stopped using this phrase.

But if today I chose my time instead of ‘finding’ it, everything would shift in terms of intention. Energy. Presence.

This isn’t a calendar issue. It’s a posture issue.

A leader who is perpetually reacting to their agenda isn’t steering — they’re managing noise.

Language as a diagnostic tool

The words we use aren’t neutral. They reveal our mental models long before our behaviours catch up.

‘I need to find time for this’ → time is a scarce resource controlled by others.

‘I need to carve out time’ → I’m the obstacle to solve.

‘I’m choosing to prioritise this’ → I’m making a call. I’m the one driving.

The difference is subtle. The impact is not.

One direct question to close

Who are you giving your time to today?

Not your teams. Not your shareholders. Not your packed schedule.

But you: what decision are you making this morning about how you use your next 24 hours?

If the answer is unclear, you may not be in the driver’s seat yet.