What If You Lived Like Time Was Running Out?

The other night, I watched this movie about a woman who finds out she has cancer and doesn’t have much time left. And of course, it got me thinking—how would that change your life? How would it change mine?

In seconds, my writer brain kicked in. I could write that. A sick teen girl? Done. A best friend trying to help her live life to the fullest? Been there, read that. But then I thought… What if the story was about a girl who loses someone and decides to live every single day like it’s her last? Now that felt interesting.

But how would that actually work? What would truly change if I lived as if my days were numbered?

So the next morning, I decided to try it out. Just for a day.

I woke up at my usual time, but instead of rushing around, I slowed down. I made my bed—because why wouldn’t I? Some habits are worth keeping, even if you’re dying. Then, instead of my usual gym outfit, I put on those joggers. You know the ones. The kind an elderly aunt or grandparent buys you because they have no clue what’s in style. And I wore them proudly.

Every morning, I'm at the gym by 6:30. I stepped outside into the rain. Normally, I’d pull my hoodie up and hurry down the street, but but that day... That day, I lifted my face to the rain and let it hit me. I stepped right into a puddle, just to feel the splash, and I danced. And for the first time, I didn’t even think about coyotes lurking in the dark (which, if you know me, is a miracle).

As the first light of the sun filled the sky, I walked across the street to this old oak tree and studied it. Ran my fingers along the bark, watching how the leaves swayed in the breeze. Then I looked up and watched a bird soar over it.

Then I walked to the gym. I got on the treadmill and glanced through the french doors. Ducks floated on the pool outside. Then, this woman—she had to be at least 85—swam by, and it was beautiful. Her strokes so smooth and graceful. I watched her, mesmerized, thinking about the years of practice it must have taken to get that good. Wow, what must that feel like? I thought as I turned away, wondering if it was too late for me to learn.

On my way home, the rain slowed to a drizzle, and I stopped. Just stopped. I studied the raindrops clinging to the begonias in the flower beds, tiny crystal beads on velvet petals.

And that’s when it hit me...

If I could slow down and really see all these things just because I was pretending I didn’t have much time left… then why wasn’t I doing it every day?

Like, why do we wait for something big—some wake-up call—to actually live?

So will this turn into a book? I have no idea. Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ll tell you this—it was worth it. Every second of being mindful and intentional about everything that day. And now I’m wondering how long I can keep it up.

And if you really think about it… I’ve already written this book. Yep...What the Good Girl Knew is about a girl who believes she could die any day. Maybe that’s why this experience hit me so hard—I was living out the very thing I wrote about.

So, I gotta ask—what would you do differently if you knew time was running out? And, more importantly, why not just start now?

We always wait for the “right time,” the perfect moment, some sign that it’s time to start really living. But what if that moment is right now?

Tell me—what’s one small thing you can do today to be more present? I’d love to hear it.