Whenever I feel like giving up, I think of my dad's death in September 2000, and I often wonder how it must have felt, not getting to fully enjoy time with the people he loved.

It reminds me of how fragile life is, that thought scares me: not death itself, but the possibility of being haunted by the trips I never took, the memories I never made, the lives I never touched, the dreams I never chased, and yeah the fantasies I never explored🥲

That’s why I work every day with death in mind, not out of fear, but as a reason to live fully. So when my time comes, I’ll be free, not haunted by the ghost of everything I never did.

This reminds me of that saying:
We have two lives, and the second begins when we realize we only have one.

That shift when you stop waiting for the right time and start living like this is the time. It changes everything.
Not fear-driven, but freedom-driven.
Thanks for this reminder.