I've been thinking about time a lot lately.

A week ago I heard some news about someone in the public eye with a terminal condition that stopped me in my tracks.

I shed a tear.

And then I sat with the question that's been with me ever since:

If my time was limited  — what would I do differently today? - 

For me the honest answer was uncomfortable.

Because I realised I've spent most of my adult life waiting. Waiting for the business to take off. Waiting for financial freedom. Waiting for the right moment to actually start living the life I kept telling myself was coming.

If you could read my mind, this was the pattern:

I can grind now because I'll be good when… I'll be happy when… I just need to get to this, and then I'll start living…

I'm alive. But I haven't been living. I haven't had enough moments. And that's no one's fault but mine.

Fear has a lot to answer for.

I've heard people say competition is the thief of joy. True. But someone once said fear is the thief of joy — and that hit differently for me.

Fear of failing. Fear of looking stupid. Fear of wanting more than the world around me seemed comfortable with. Friends used to say — aren't you going to settle down, you should relax, stop chasing. There were moments I started to wonder if they were right.

They weren't.

Something changed five months ago.

I started what you would probably call an extreme detox. No news. No social media. No alcohol. No friends. No sex. No porn. Just me, my thoughts, nature and peace.

And when you remove everything artificial, forced and distracting — you start to see clearly.

So I switched my focus to the things that actually matter. Self care. Fitness. Body and gut health. Sleep quality and routine. The basics that slip by because life happens. I stopped giving my energy to things that were draining it and started building from the inside out.

It's early days but I feel like something big is cooking.

Maybe it's just me, but one of the small things I started noticing was the nod fading out.

You know the one. That nod — you good? I see you bro — that men give each other in the street. No words needed. Just acknowledgement. I see you, I respect you.

I used to walk with my head down. Now I wait for it. I'll spot a man coming from five steps away and try to catch it.

And when it doesn't come back — that bothers me a little more than it probably should. Because maybe the man who won't give it back is the man who needs it most.

Reflecting on time made me think about gratitude differently.

I practice it daily. But there's always been a friction inside me — between being grateful for what I have and then switching straight into Money Monday mode, getting the grind on and being hungry for more.

I used to think those two things were in conflict.

They're not.

You can be deeply grateful for your health, your mind, your life — and still be on fire to build something. Gratitude is the foundation you build from.

But sometimes it takes something outside yourself to make you feel what you already know in your head.

So what would I do differently if tomorrow wasn't promised?

I'd still get my grind on — but I'd stay present and embrace the moment. I'd get creative and make music. I'd do something I don't want to do that makes me grow. I'd spend time with the people who matter. And I'd sit here and air my honest thoughts to the world — something I never thought I'd do.

What's one thing you're putting off — because you've been waiting for the right moment?

— Nick Roberts, Founder, The Dedicated Man