WEST COAST SUNSET
We grow up living as if there’s endless time to accomplish our goals. Part of the reason why we misjudge the concept of time is partially due to our ignorance in failing to acknowledge how little of it we actually have. You might be reading this and think, Well, Niki, I’m in my twenties—or maybe my early thirties—I’ve got plenty of time. And I’d agree with you. I’m not here to tell you how much time you have left to live. Honestly, I don’t care what your age is, because any one of use could be gone tomorrow.
What I am here to talk about is how we perceive time. Our concept of time has been altered since childhood. As children, everything feels new. A plane leaving a white trail across the sky. Raindrops racing down a car window. Shadows moving as the sun sets. The excitement of pressing buttons in an elevator. The world is full of novel experiences when you are five.
The time we felt we had at five does not seem the same in our twenties or thirties. Yet the time between childhood and adulthood feels deceptively long, and then suddenly you’re 25 or 30 and wondering how the last decade passed. We might try to reclaim time—exercising more, eating kale, maybe even meditating. (By the way, yes—move your body and eat your greens. Exercise is medicine.)
Still, here’s the truth: the goal isn’t to stretch life endlessly, because death is inevitable. The goal is to fill life—intentionally—with things that make it feel longer. Things that are rich with novelty, challenge, and nuance.
We don’t need more years. We need more newness. The more our days are filled with new, challenging experiences the longer they will feel. This isn’t meant to sound grim but rather meaningful. It goes back to the Japanese concept ikigai—the happiness of being busy with purpose. We’re good at chasing money, relationships, even control. But maybe we should spend less energy counting the years and more energy in searching for novelty.
So go do something unfamiliar. Try a new sport. Drive to a lake and paddle for hours (but please wear a lifejacket). Create something from scratch. Whatever it is, keep an open mind and savour your time. Embrace the laughter and humiliation of learning something new and to fu** with what others think.
It is logical to try and live longer lives. But maybe we’ve misunderstood what “long” means. You could live to 120—bless your heart if you do—and still complain and say it went by too fast. The aim isn’t to add years to our lives, but to densify them. To pack them with novelty, awe, and discovery that time slows down. Ask the scary questions. Go for a walk. Watch the sunset again—and this time, really look at it.
I’m writing for myself, but also for you. Fear is just an emotion. Time is just a concept we play out in our minds. And maybe, just maybe, if you finally do that thing you’ve been avoiding, you’ll surprise yourself. You might even meet a part of you that’s been waiting to be discovered.
