Are You Wishing Your Life Away?

Me Taking a Moment to Make a Wish

I used to live in a mid-size high-rise building with about 100 units. Over the 14 years I called it home, I got to know many of my neighbors. You can’t share elevators and laundry rooms and mailboxes for that long without forming some kind of bond.

One neighbor is someone I got to know a little bit better than the others. Her name was Rhea.

Rhea was in her 80s, a widowed mother of two grown sons who also lived in Chicago. She was petite, with short, feathered gray hair, and always smiling. When you spoke to her, she smiled and nodded thoughtfully, really listening.

On Tuesday nights, we played mahjong with another couple from the building. It was casual, fun, and full of little rituals: tea where our hostess friend always asked if we wanted a half of Splenda or a full one (as someone who loves sweets, I really wanted to ask for two full packets, but I never did), Joni Mitchell playing in the background - I always thought her music was depressing (inner monologue...lack of Splenda and depressing music, why was this fun!? 😂), and the two dot, three crack, one birdy bam, flower words that are surely leaving my readers confused if you are unfamiliar with the game.

Back to Rhea...

One day, I got in the elevator and there she was—Rhea, holding a reusable shopping bag and wearing that great smile. She asked how I was doing, and I lit up. I had just booked a trip to Japan and I could hardly contain my excitement. “I can’t wait to go!” I practically bounced.

She smiled back, but this time it was different. Her face grew still, and she said quietly: “Oh, honey. Don’t wish your life away.”

It stopped me cold.

I don’t think she meant to diminish my joy or my excitement. But those seven words held the weight of her years. They were a gentle tap on the shoulder—a reminder from someone who had watched time pass, who had lived the phases I was rushing toward. I didn’t fully understand its true meaning in the moment, but I do now.

It’s been over ten years since that elevator ride, and I can still picture Rhea in the elevator and hear her voice when I catch myself wanting to fast-forward through life.

Are You Wishing Time Away?

Have you ever caught yourself saying things like:

• “I can’t wait until Friday.”

• “Just three more weeks until vacation.”

• “Once I get through this week, I’ll finally relax.”

• "When my kids go off to college, I'll start a new hobby."

We do it all the time. It feels so harmless. Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets us through the tough times, right?

But when we live in a state of “next,” we’re not living in the now.

We’re bracing through our lives instead of experiencing them.

The days we’re rushing through are our actual lives. (Feel free to reread that sentence to fully absorb it.) The Tuesday you spent zoning out? That was your one and only July 22nd, 2025. You don’t get it back. (Yikes! It's gettin' real!)

Be Present. Live in the Moment. Appreciate Today.

I get it. These phrases can sound cliché, like something crocheted on a throw pillow. But they’re simple because they’re true.

Being present doesn’t mean everything has to be magical.

Sometimes it just means noticing the way the light falls across your desk.

Or savoring that first sip of coffee instead of gulping it on autopilot.

Or looking up from your phone when your partner walks in the room.

It means not skipping past now because you think later will be better.

Questions to Bring You Back to the Moment

Here’s something I ask myself (and my coaching clients):

• What might I be missing right now?

• Who benefits when I’m fully present?

• What do I want to remember about today?

• What would it look like to slow down—even a little?

And maybe the most powerful one:

What do I want to be proud of when I look back on how I lived this chapter?

Sometimes we think the big stuff is what matters most. The trips. The promotions. The milestones.

But often, it’s the little things we remember. The laughter echoing from the next room. The caring hand we reached for. The ordinary day that surprised us with something amazing.

How Do We Slow Down?

Slowing down is a practice—not a destination.

It’s choosing to pause before reacting.

To breathe before jumping to the next thing.

To say no to one more task so you can say yes to being human.

Here are a few small ways to practice:

• Name what’s good. Out loud. Right now. “This breeze feels amazing.” “I love how quiet the house is in the morning.”

• Use all five senses. What do you see, smell, taste, touch, and hear in this exact moment?

• Micro-pauses. Before opening your next app, before walking into your next meeting—take 3 slow breaths. That’s it.

• Anchor your day. Start or end it with something intentional: a journal entry, a gratitude practice, or just a minute of silence.

And Then There’s the Why

Every good coaching session—every real moment of clarity—comes back to this question:

Why does it matter to be here now?

Because this moment is the only one that’s real.

Because your life doesn’t start after the project ends, or when the kids are older, or when you hit that next goal. It’s already happening.

Rhea knew that. And I’m still learning it - and practicing it. Over and over.

So let’s not wish our lives away—even when they’re messy, imperfect, or in-between.

Let’s live them.