“Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.”

That quote or some version of it is one I’ve wrestled with all my life. Now, as A stands on the precipice of becoming an adult and is about to start making decisions about college majors and schools, it’s coming around again.

This past year has been a tough one for A. Recently he expressed a lot of the frustrations that he’s having with various areas of his life that used to be enjoyable and carefree.

He didn’t like that my initial reaction was a little bit of a giggle, and to be fair, I should have tried to hold back the laughter. It was just a little funny to me because he was so sure that he was all alone in what he was feeling, and I quickly recognized a serious case of senioritis.

But, I did take his laments seriously, and since then we’ve had a lot of conversations about difficult choices, honoring obligations, and cutting losses when the negatives start to outweigh the positives.

Once again, I find our generational differences coming into play, and I’m starting to see how the events of the last few years have really changed my perspective on life.

I think Steve and I both suffered from that Gen X philosophy of seeing things through, or, to rehash a once popular phrase, “suck up and deal.” Neither of us found our chosen careers particularly fulfilling; however, they enabled us to pursue a lot of other activities that we did truly enjoy.

Frequently, though, we allowed our jobs to interfere with our family fun time, taking calls or answering emails while we half paid attention to the activity around us.

The pandemic and working from home blurred those lines further. That last summer, on what would be our last family vacation, we both agreed that we would not be looking at our phones or taking calls or answering emails, and we held each other to it. While it was refreshing then, the events that would happen just a few months later made me appreciate that decision even more.

Since then, partly out of necessity and partly because of the lesson learned, I’ve found myself declining meetings or working hours that interfere with my other priorities.

Saying “no” or canceling things has taken some people by surprise, but I’ve also learned that I don’t owe anyone an explanation.

I also do feel an incredible amount of guilt about it at times, but I know I would also feel more guilty not being 100% present for my kids when they need me.

I also feel like a failure when I can’t juggle multiple balls like I used to be able to do, but I’ve come to realize that I am actually failing more when my heart isn’t in an activity and I’m not giving it the attention it deserves.

So, as I’ve watched A try to balance and juggle commitments he’s made, and obligations that feels he has to honor, I wonder about the example that Steve and I set for him for years, and I’m wondering how to go about changing courses now, so that he does feel that it’s OK to say “no” or to step back when it’s in his best interest, and also how to help him find a path forward that is both rewarding and pays the bills.

I’ve recently come to realize that one activity that I used to truly love has turned into an obligation and another activity that I took on as a duty has since transformed into something that I love and want to spend more time doing.

The first is coaching. I have been a coach or instructor for most of my life. In many ways, it is as much a part of my identity as being a mom or a writer. I think most people who know of me, or know me casually, probably know me as “the swim coach.” For a very long time, this made me happy.

Being in the pool, being with kids, helping them to develop and grow was something I loved to do and structured my life around doing. Even when I tried to give it up to spend more time with my own kids, gradually, I ended up dragging my kids into it with me. It was just part of who I was.

Lately, though, it has changed. I think a big part of it has to do with the fact that I was at a swim meet when Steve was home and tragedy struck. That fundamentally changed how I feel about coaching. I’m sure there are other contributing factors, but that seems to be the one that I keep coming back to. At the same time, working with my dogs has turned from an obligation into something I love doing. The dogs were Steve’s world.

Sure, I walked them, fed them, halfheartedly tried to get them to be obedient, and sure I loved them as pets, but Steve was the pack leader.

When he died, I felt obligated to keep our pack together and fumbled along with the help of friends and other dog folks. Now, in addition to the simple enjoyment of being with the pooches, I also have a deeper understanding of why Steve found them so fulfilling.

I may have learned this lesson a little too late in life, but I really hope it’s not too late to teach my kids that it’s OK to stop loving things you’ve always loved and start loving new things.

It’s OK to say goodbye to comfort zones and things that you’ve always known, and it’s OK to be excited to try something new.

Above all, though, the reasons that you’re making those decisions aren’t any one else’s business. Some things just can’t be explained.

Liz Pinkey’s column appears weekly in the Times News