If Not Now, When?

It's a new year and I have to say 2023 is feeling different already. And in a really good way. Last year at this time, I was hunkered down in the depths of developing an online course. And I did not want to emerge from that creative cave.

This upcoming year feels purposeful and dynamic. There's a quality of aliveness to it, as well as a sense of promise and possibility. It feels like being at base camp just below the final ascent of a long journey. And so it's with this level of elation that brings me to the page today.

This enthusiasm is tempered by reminders that time is passing. My father turned 101 a few days ago. While he has enjoyed robust health his entire life, we can see Father Time finally catching up with him on the final predetermined lap. And there have been a number of family and friends, some half his age, who are struggling with health issues or have recently passed.

While these situations can bring sadness, they also prompt action and inspire reflection. Contemplation is where I’ve been this past week, diving deep into wordlessness for some inner exploration. My favorite way to do this is by holding what poet David Whyte calls a beautiful question. This type of question invites you to open a door to the unknown parts of yourself and simply pay close attention to what’s there and how it feels.

The beautiful question I've been holding is: What would be my most devastating deathbed regret? And more importantly: What can I do to prevent it?

For me, it would be getting to the end of my life before fully realizing my potential when I had the power and ability to do so. This includes growing a thriving business that serves others, exploring truth and beauty through self-expression, and sharing authentic, meaningful experiences through relationships and adventure.

Like most things I live and teach, I know the answer to this is not “out there.” It's about clarifying my inner vision and aligning my daily habits and actions accordingly. And that can be done by connecting to my quiet knowing.

So I put a reminder on my calendar, a brief daily “appointment” for 4:45am for each day in 2023 to check in. The process is simple. I wake, take my notebook off the bedside table, and pose this question: How can I honor my body, mind and spirit today? And then I jot down whatever comes to mind. Then throughout the day, I make sure I honor that commitment.

It takes a few minutes and it's portable. I can stay in bed in the winter, be outside in the summer, and take it on the road when I travel. It's a quick and accessible way to deeply connect with and listen to the guidance that I'm seeking. And each morning, I'm reminded of a favorite quote by Rumi:

“The breeze at dawn has secrets for you. Do not go back to sleep.”

It's only been a few weeks, but I've noticed that it sets the tone for the day in a whole new way. I feel gratitude for another day and get insight on what's truly important for my well-being. What I write down might be in line with what I had planned for the day, or I may course correct to include what I learned during the check-in. I'm finding that it's less about the daily details and more about the dynamic process of tuning in and respecting the wisdom that surfaces.

And that’s the key of not having regret, isn’t it? There’s no room for regret when we don’t let ourselves down, when we show up for ourselves as reliably as we would for a loved one or a colleague.

So my takeaway for you is this: Spend some time contemplating what you might regret at the end of your life and create a way to put a micro-action in place to counter that outcome. Keep it radically simple. This isn't meant to overburden; it's meant to bring clarity and to give you focus as you make daily choices.

If you’re unsure where to start, you can consider these beautiful questions:

  • Where am I drifting away from myself?

  • When do I feel listless or empty?

  • Who am I afraid of letting down and why?

  • Where am I stuck or compromising?

  • How have my choices led me to this place?

I’ll wrap with a lyric from the Allman Brothers. It's off the Eat a Peach album that was released in 1972. I can still remember listening to it when I was eight years old, headphones connected to the big phonograph that we had in the living room.

“With the help of God and true friends, I've come to realize;

I still have two strong legs and even wings to fly.

So I ain't wastin’ time no more

‘Cause time goes by like hurricanes and faster things.”

I am wishing you an epic new year. If not now, when?

Journal Reflections:  What would be your most devastating deathbed regret? What can you do to prevent it? What’s one step you can take today?