That moment when you realise (or over think)
I had a moment in Cornwall last week. One of those proper dawning realisations - the kind that grabs you by the shoulders and whispers, “Oi. Doris. You’re on the clock.” At 3am.
I’m 52. That wasn’t the realisation. I did know and remember my age. This was the big slap in the face with a wet kipper - if we go by averages (which I never normally do, but bear with), I’ve got 32 years left on this planet. That’s it. And the second I did that maths, a wave of panic hit me. Well I did the maths twice, with a calculator and everything. And even asked Google (went old school thinking it would be kinder than AI but the results were the same).
32 years. Suddenly seemed not very long at all. Because I’ve still got so much I want to do.
So much I haven’t done. Including buy a house in Cornwall but Google also told me I would never be able to afford that.
So much I forgot I even wanted to do because life got lifey. Kids, work, business, divorce, spreadsheets, emotional load, the bloody dishwasher, thinking about what’s for tea (dinner if you’re down south) every sodding night.
And now? Now the urgency is real.
Not in a panicked, hustle-yourself-into-burnout way. (Because hustling is bloody stupid).
No. I mean real in a deep, soul-rattling, purpose-driven, write a book kind of way.
The kind where you start asking:
- What do I actually want my time to be about?
- Who do I want to spend it with
- What do I want to create, change, build or become?
And of course at 3am; there’s also the life-changing questions of “should I wear red boots with my green trousers?”
My biggest realisation of recent years (along with no f@cker will ever see the crumbs in the sink) - the fire doesn’t go out as we get older. If anything, the need for purpose and passion gets blinking louder. It starts shouting over the noise of the world:
“Spend your time like it matters. Because it does.”
This is why I talk about the sequel season. Not because it’s catchy.
Because it’s true.
It’s the season where you stop apologising and start living in a way that makes sense to you.
Where climbing mountains might get ditched (Snowdon – not again thank you), but climbing back into your own life? That becomes the real story.
This isn’t about a bucket list.
It’s about a bullshit filter. No more wasting energy on things that don’t matter.
No more shrinking to fit other people’s expectations.
No more waiting for permission or the perfect time.
You’ve got things to do. People to love. Joy to feel. Impact to make.
Whether that’s launching the thing, changing the script, or finally making time for your own dreams again - this is your moment.
Anyone else feeling that time anxiety or have I just gifted you something else to worry about?
Maybe this is your cue. To do that thing and crack on. On your terms.
(Picture of me in Cornwall wondering what to cook for tea. Again).
