We live in a culture obsessed with the finish line. From the moment we’re old enough to understand what success means, we’re taught to chase it—one milestone at a time.
Graduate high school. Get through college. Land the job. Get promoted. Start a family. Buy a house. Build a business. Sell the business. Retire. Relax. Then what?
So many of us live our lives focused on what’s next. We’re constantly chasing, striving, surviving today in the hope that tomorrow will finally feel like the reward we’ve earned. And somewhere in that process, we start to believe a dangerous idea: that today’s discomfort is a necessary sacrifice for tomorrow’s happiness.
But the truth—the truth that only becomes clear when you’ve run enough of those races—is that the finish line is never what you thought it would be. You get there, and sure, there may be relief. Maybe even a brief sense of accomplishment. But more often than not, you’re left with a strange emptiness. A question no one prepared you for:
What now?
You see, I’ve spent much of my life building. I’ve chased goals. I’ve led people. I’ve achieved things I once thought would define me. But when the dust settled—when the deal was done, the project wrapped, the mission complete—I found myself longing not for the outcome, but for the journey. Not for the end, but for the moments along the way. The hard days. The late nights. The coffee-fueled strategy sessions. The bonds that only form when people pursue something meaningful together.
You come to realize something kind of beautiful, and also a little heartbreaking: the pain and pressure you once wished away were the very things that gave the moment its meaning.
It’s easy to miss that while you’re in it. The discomfort, the stress, the uncertainty—they trick you into thinking you’d rather be anywhere else. But someday, maybe not long from now, you’ll look back and realize that the version of you who was struggling was also growing. The version of you who felt lost was also learning. The season that felt like survival was, in fact, sacred.
So here’s what I want to say, as clearly as I can: Live where you are.
Right here. In this moment. In this phase. In this tension between where you’ve been and where you’re going.
It might not be glamorous. It might be hard. You might be juggling kids, bills, deadlines, or doubts. But this moment—this unfiltered, unpolished slice of life—is yours. And no matter how difficult it is, it won’t last forever. One day it will be behind you. And when it is, you might find yourself missing it more than you ever imagined.
We’ve been taught to see life as a series of destinations. But life is not a train ride from one stop to the next. It’s more like a hike through rugged terrain—full of detours, surprises, aching muscles, and breathtaking views. And if all you’re doing is staring at the map, waiting to get to the end, you’ll miss the entire point of the journey.
The point is not to get through life. The point is to live it.
So stop holding your breath. Stop delaying joy. Stop telling yourself you’ll be happy when.
Be happy now. Be present now. Be here, now.
Because this moment—yes, even this one—is part of your story. And someday, you may look back and realize it was one of the most meaningful chapters of all.
If you’re in a season that feels exhausting, or ordinary, or like something you just want to get through—I hope this reminded you to take a breath and look around. Because even in the pressure, even in the struggle, there’s something worth noticing.
If this episode meant something to you, pass it along to someone who might need the same reminder. And if you haven’t already, hit subscribe—so you don’t miss what’s coming next.
I’ll be back soon with more. But until then—stay grounded, stay present, and live where you are.
Until next time.
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