I imagine time to be a funny thing.
That’s even a funnier thing to share with someone I don’t even know. But I’m going to share it anyway—because the more I live, the more I realize time isn’t what we think it is.
We say things like “I’ll do it next week,” “When I have more time,” or “Maybe someday.” But do you know if you have next week? Or even tomorrow? Do I?
That’s where the whole thing gets funny. We treat time like a fact—like it’s something we own or can bank on. But it’s not. Time is a mystery, a gift, and yes, sometimes, a thief.
The Illusion of Control
We live under this ticking clock. We schedule. We plan. We measure our worth by how productive we are in a single day.
But let’s be honest—how many of us feel like time controls us more than we control it?
We blame “not enough time” for our delays, our distance, and our disconnection. We use it as an excuse when we're scared to take a leap.
But what if it’s not about time at all?
What if it's about what we value?
We Use Time Against Ourselves
Sometimes, I wonder how many beautiful ideas died because someone waited too long to try.
How many dreams sat quiet because someone assumed they had more time?
We weaponize time. We say “I’m too late” or “I’m too old.”
We say “It’s not the right time,” as if the stars must align and a magic clock will tell us when it’s okay to be brave.
But here’s the truth—time doesn’t give you permission. You do.
The Preciousness We Overlook
We count time in years and months. We celebrate birthdays and anniversaries.
But the real life happens in minutes—sometimes in seconds.
The whispered “I love you” before someone walks out the door.
The moment you say “yes” to something that scares you.
The long pause before a friend says, “I’m not okay.”
That’s where life lives—in those tiny, unscheduled moments that pass without fanfare.
Do You Have Next Week?
A friend once said they’d get in touch “next week.”
That week never came.
Not because they didn’t want to.
Because they didn’t get the chance.
It shook me.
Now when someone says “next time” or “we should catch up,” I feel that soft ache inside.
Because maybe we won’t.
Maybe now is the only guaranteed moment.
So I say it now.
I love you now.
I forgive you now.
I try now.
Because time is precious when you stop assuming you’ll have more of it.
Living Beyond the Clock
What would life look like if we lived outside the pressure of the ticking clock?
If we measured life not by what we did, but how we felt doing it?
Imagine letting joy set your pace.
Imagine using your time to create, to connect, to heal, to breathe.
To write the story you keep postponing.
To sit quietly with someone you love without glancing at your phone.
What if we used time as a compass—not a cage?
The Gift of Right Now
Here’s what I believe now:
Time is both your greatest treasure and your most unpredictable companion.
It’s not meant to be chased or conquered.
It’s meant to be used—wisely, honestly, and with a full heart.
So if you’re waiting for a sign to do the thing, start the thing, become the thing—
This is it.
Right now.
This moment.
You don’t need “more time.”
You need more courage.
And courage, my friend, doesn’t care what time it is.
Still Here. Still Breathing. Still Trying.
This post isn’t about fear.
It’s about awakening.
It’s about remembering that you are still here.
And that means you still have time to tell someone the truth.
To take a break.
To forgive yourself.
To laugh.
To love.
To begin again.
You still have time.
Just don’t assume you always will.g here...