The Life I Don't Want to Miss

A few weeks ago, during a coaching program I'm part of, we were given a simple exercise:

"What are you most afraid of when it comes to your business?"

The idea was to identify the fear and then choose a challenge designed to help us face it.

I've done exercises like this before, and usually the answers come quickly. But, this time was different.

When the timer started and we were given ten minutes to write down our biggest fears, I stared at the page. I had nothing. 

A couple of ideas floated through my mind:

"I'm afraid of charging more for coaching."

Nope.

"I'm afraid of putting myself out there."

Not that either.

One by one, the fears appeared and disappeared just as quickly. Nothing felt true.

By the end of the exercise, I had shared “fears” that weren't really it, and I walked away with challenges that felt more like chores than opportunities.

Later on that night and for a few days that followed, I got curious. Why couldn't I land on a fear?

I realized I no longer view my work as the thing that defines me. 

What I do is not who I am.

For much of my life, achievement, productivity, and building something meaningful occupied a very large space. But somewhere along the way, that relationship shifted.

The thing I fear most isn't failure in business.

It's losing myself to it.

It's returning to a place where work becomes the center of everything. Where the endless cycle of building, striving, producing, and doing crowds out the simple experience of being alive.

A place where I stop noticing the life that's happening while I'm busy trying to create a better one.

Looking back, the absence of fear during that exercise wasn't an absence at all, it was information.

It was my body signaling that in this chapter of life, business is no longer the main character.

Because when I really sit with the question, what I fear most is reaching the end of my life and realizing I didn't fully experience it.

And what I desire most isn't complicated.

I want to nourish myself with movement, good meals, meaningful experiences, and moments that make me feel fully awake.

I want to help others do the same.

I want to travel to places I've never been.

I want to witness the miracle of nature and be brought to tears by a sunset.

I want to watch bees and butterflies get drunk on pollen.

I want to visit every coffee shop I can find.

I want long conversations with people about what lights them up and what breaks their hearts.

I want to craft things with my hands, grow gardens, and learn the recipes that have lived in my family for generations.

I want tables filled with good food, people I love, and far too many twinkle lights.

I want to build a rock-solid partnership rooted in love, laughter, and choosing each other again and again.

I recognize that many of the things above require money to make them happen. Money isn't the villain here, and neither is meaningful work.

What I've become aware of is how easy it is to let achievement become the lens through which I measure life. 

These days, I'm just more interested in measuring mine by the moments that make me feel alive. 

When my time here is done, I don't think I'll be counting dollars.

I'll be remembering moments.

The love I gave and received.

The joy.

The laughter.

The grief.

The beauty.

The mess.

The full spectrum.

The colors that made a life.

And now I'm curious:

What are you most afraid of?