Another Moment in London
London makes me think. Not just about logistics or life goals. But about the impossible.
Time is funny. People say it heals, that it waits for no one, that it’s of the essence. But what does that really mean? Lately, I’ve been thinking about how obsessed we are with time—not in the way physicists define it, as the fourth dimension, but in the way we live it. The way we structure our lives around it.
“I want to be this by 30.”
“I need to achieve that before the year ends.”
“If I don’t do this now, I’ll fall behind.”
We map out our lives like a timeline, ticking off milestones, as if success is just a series of deadlines. But here’s the thing—having a vision, setting goals, and chasing after them isn’t the same as actually living through the process of achieving them. We become so fixated on the future that we miss the present. And the present—the process—is where the real work happens.
Lately, I’ve been asking myself: Why are we in such a hurry? Why do we rush through life, racing against time, instead of letting time do what it does best—unfold?
I used to sprint through life, heck I still do. I had time-bound goals, structured like a well-planned project. SMART goals, as they call them. But here’s what life doesn’t tell you: not everything can—or should—be a neatly structured plan. Some of the most important things in life aren’t SMART. Decisions, growth, self-discovery—they’re messy, unpredictable, and take time.
And here’s something I’ve realized: time refines everything. The best ideas, the best decisions, the best versions of ourselves—they all get clearer when given time. Some of my best work wasn’t the result of rushing to meet a deadline; it came from stepping back, letting thoughts marinate, and allowing my mind to wander. Taking an extra day to think through an idea, asking better questions, considering the edge cases—that’s when clarity emerges.
This isn’t just about work; it’s about life. Think about the beliefs you held five years ago—do they still make sense today? Probably not. That’s because time has shaped your perspective. Growth isn’t about force; it’s about allowing time to do its quiet, invisible work in the background.
Yet, we’re constantly in a rush.
A rush to achieve the next big thing.
A rush to be successful—whatever that even means.
A rush to find love, settle down, and move to the next life stage before 25.
A rush to be happy—except we keep postponing happiness, making it conditional on our next achievement.
And that last one? That’s the real trap. Somewhere along the way, we learned to tie happiness to accomplishments. We celebrate success, but we don’t celebrate presence. We don’t allow ourselves to just be. Remember when we were kids, and happiness was simple? When just being in the moment was enough? What happened to that?
I think about this a lot. I think about how we fight time instead of embracing it. We fear time because we see it as something slipping away, instead of something unfolding in our favor. I used to fight against time, always looking ahead, always thinking two steps forward. But something changed. Time happened to me. And I realized the best place to be isn’t in the future, isn’t in the past—it’s in now.
Because now is all we ever really have.
This isn’t easy. Trust me, I struggle with it too. But the more I reflect, the more I see that the secret isn’t in chasing time—it’s in being present with it.
Maybe I’ll write more about this later in the year—after I’ve allowed time to shape me even more. But for now, I’ll leave you with this:
You, right now, in this moment, are the best version of yourself. Not the person you will be in five years, not the person you were in the past—you, right now. And when you realize that, when you start living in now, you begin to truly live.