Time. It’s something we all have, yet none of us knows exactly how much of it we get.
Because I was given a life expectancy of five years old, I’ve often felt like I’m running against the clock — not the kind that counts down to the next meeting or birthday, but the one that silently ticks in the background of our lives. The one that holds the question none of us can answer: how much time do I really have?
For the longest time, I believed I had to race through life. That I had to do more, be more, achieve more — and quickly. Because that’s what happens when you grow up with a clock hovering over you. You feel like you have to fit a lifetime of living into borrowed time.
But here’s the catch. None of us actually knows how long we have, do we? We make plans for next year, next month, even next week — with the assumption that we’ll be here. But the truth is, tomorrow is never promised to any of us. That’s why I believe in making the most of today. Truly, I do. I believe in saying yes to new adventures, in showing up fully for the people I love, in chasing dreams even when they feel impossible. But there’s another side to that coin.
Sometimes, we get so caught up in making the most of every moment that we forget to actually be in the moment. We rush through the day, ticking off to-dos, chasing milestones, trying to squeeze in life before the clock runs out — and in the process, we miss the beauty of the now.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned — especially through my relationship — is to slow down. To breathe. To stop trying to rush every step. Not every moment needs to be filled with action or achievement. Sometimes, the most meaningful moments are the quiet ones — the ones where nothing “big” is happening, but your heart is full.
The laughter shared over coffee.
The calm of sitting side by side in silence.
The softness of a slow morning.
The joy of simply being alive.
So yes, I still believe in making the most of every moment we’re given. But I’ve learned that doesn’t always mean doing more. Sometimes it means feeling more. Noticing more. Taking the time to smell the roses instead of racing past them on the way to the next thing.
We may not know how much time we have on this planet — but we do have this moment. Right here. Right now. And that, I’ve learned, is more than enough.
