“The trouble is, you think you have time.”
—Buddha

Time is the great illusionist. It stretches out in front of us like it owes us something—like we’ll always have more of it, like the people we love will always be within reach, like we can afford to wait to start living.

It reminds me to write the story now.
To speak what’s in my heart while the room is still full.
To sit in the sun a little longer.
To choose the scenic route, the risky leap.
To call my friends. To forgive. To dance, anyway.

I’ve known goodbyes that came too fast, silences that lasted too long, moments I didn’t know were “lasts” until they were already gone. So now, I try to live eyes wide, heart open, every breath a gift I won’t get back.

Not in a frantic way, but in a sacred one.

Not because I’m afraid—but because I finally understand.

13july25