I met a guy who rode a brand new motorcycle. I happen to know the sticker price on the bike because it was fresh off the line, complete with customizations. Turns out this guy was more than an amateur. A brief stint in the semi-pro circuit gave him the skills to know how the buttons actually work on the ‘pro setting.’ As I learned more about him, I found out that he is a mechanic (a car mechanic, I believe). So I did the math.

The median salary for a Car Mechanic in the US in 2016 was $38,470 according to US News and World Report. The bottom quartile earned $28,140 and the top quartile earned $52,120. Let’s assume that my new friend was above average and put him in the top quartile, earning $52,120. Let’s also assume that he has average expenses and fits the ’typical’ US spending breakdown. The last assumption we’ll make here is that my new friend is not independently wealthy. According to my math (and that of most financial advisors), a $20,000 motorcycle (not his primary mode of transportation) is a bad idea. Many would consider such frivolity unwise. To be clear, he pays his taxes, isn’t rife with debt and has the things that he needs.

But here’s what I also know about my friend: he comes alive when he rides. His soul settles and his spirit rises. He finds joy in the solitude of the road and of the community of like-hearted adventurers. His wife also rides and when they ride, they grow closer together.

My friend knows what brings his heart to life and organizes his life around that. He has designed the life that he wants and prioritizes everything he does against that.

• He took a job to get him near like-minded people with the flexibility to take the time he needs.

• He lives in a place touted as prime country for his craft.

• He married a woman that encourages his soul-health and partners with him to support it.

• He spends his discretionary energy in relationship with people that also find life how he does

• He has planned his burial and memorial services to be in the place he loves with the people he loves.

It seems quite romantic, doesn’t it? A complete orientation of life around a hobby. “He doesn’t live where I live.” “He doesn’t have the kids I do.” “He isn’t married to the woman I married.” Fair. Unnecessary, but fair. And you’re right: he doesn’t live here with her and them. But neither are you a motorcycle mechanic in Alaska.

Love Does author Bob Goff led a discussion I attended a few years ago, outlining his grand adventures across the world. In a meet and greet after, I asked Bob how do I do this in the real world: with my mortgage and job and wife and kids and health and…. He graciously encouraged me to love where I am with what I have (I can’t take the kids around the world to meet foreign dictators on a cold letter as Bob did, but I can bring home ice cream for the kids. All 31 flavors).

My friend knew this already. He enjoys riding enough to sacrifice other things to support his love. His body, mind, soul and relationships are better for it. That investment is a good investment.

I wonder about the thing that brings me alive: Can I be self-aware enough to articulate it? Can I be vulnerable enough to ask for it? Can I be disciplined enough to work toward it? I also wonder what will happen if I don’t find life.