#201

Last week I did a couple of things I haven’t done too frequently.
One, I took a break… a proper switch off break from work.
And two, which I found the hardest, I switched on my OOO (Out of Office).
Admittedly, I switched it off a few hours earlier than I had planned but the good thing (and tricky thing for me) was switching it on in the first place.

This might seem ridiculous to many but for those of us who are self-employed, and at least for me, I find it incredibly difficult to switch off - let alone switch off from being always available for clients and colleagues. Because there’s a sneaky lie (be-lie-f) that creeps into adulthood.
It whispers, “Not now. Later.”
“Not now. Maybe next week.”
“I’ll take the trip when things quiet down.”
“I’ll book the dinner, the concert, the beach house... when work slows down.”
“I’ll spend more time with the kids/partner/family/friends when the project’s done.”

Plot twist: life doesn’t future proof itself.
And if you keep deferring the good stuff - rest, joy, connection, wonder - you’re not building a life, you’re building a waiting room.

Most people don’t burn out from doing too much. They burn out from doing too little of what makes them feel alive.
Too little of what brings life to their years.

Late last year, when I had no idea of what my work pipeline would look like, I found myself saying, “We should really plan that trip to…soon.”
Then my wife nudged me. Soon? When is soon? And more importantly - what if soon never comes?
So, we booked it.
Not when it was convenient.
Not when the inbox was empty or the calendar was clear.
We booked it because we don’t want to be someone who only looks forward to life. I want to be someone who does my best whenever I can to live it.

We future proof our finances, our businesses, our bodies. But how often do we future proof our memories?

The version of you five years from now won’t thank you for working late again. They’ll thank you for walking barefoot on a beach with someone you love. For the late-night laughter. For the memory of a sky so wide it made your worries feel small.

So, here’s a gentle provocation: What is one experience, moment, or joy you keep putting off?
What if you scheduled it now, instead of waiting for “when things slow down”?
What would your future self thank you for doing this month - not next year?
Don’t let your life be all business plan and no postcard.
Because the ultimate futureproofing isn’t security - it’s memory.
It’s the moments that remind you what all the busy-ness was for.
Go on. Book the thing. Say yes. Live now.
Not perfectly. Not later. Just now.
Because this is it.
Your one wild and precious moment.