It took me 20+ years to realize what I'll tell you in 15 minutes….

It took me 20 years to realize what I'm about to tell you, and I hope that it doesn't take you that long, my friend. So here's a big aha. Are you ready? We all wait. We wait for the right time, the right moment, the right season of life to start actually living. We wait for the ducks to be in a row and for life to be neat and tidy and in control before we can actually live it. But here is the truth that no one tells you. The so-called golden years, they might not ever come. And even if they do, they may not look the way you hope. So if you're new to me, hi, I'm Chris Carr. I'm a New York Times bestselling author and wellness coach, and I've been living with stage four cancer for over 20 years now. And that experience, more than anything else in my life, has changed how I see and live my life. And along the way, I figured out how to take care of myself, how to become what I call an empowered participant in my own health. And I have had the privilege of teaching millions of other people how to do the same. And while you think that a diagnosis like that would wake you up for good, and for a while it certainly did. Life certainly had my full attention and I got really clear on what mattered. But honestly, it's easy to go back to sleep. It is easy to slip back into old patterns and busy habits and to convince yourself that you'll figure it all out later and you'll get to it all later once XYZ is behind you and so on. So the real work isn't waking up once, it's learning how to come back to yourself again and again and again. And this story that I'm about to tell you is one of those moments that brought me back. So my dad was near the end of his life, and though he wasn't my biological father, he adopted me. He was my person. He was the one who raised me, who loved me, who showed up for me in every way that mattered. And he and my mom were visiting my husband and I for the weekend. And I remember that I was helping him bring their suitcases up to our little guest room. And he needed to pause and catch his breath. So we're halfway up the stairs, we're on the landing. And then he said something I'll never forget. He said, you know love, sometimes the golden years are for ----. And I just stood there thinking, oh geez, here we go. But then he pointed at the little suitcase in his hand and he said, you know what's in here? A whole bag full of medications. All this working, all this saving, all this striving, all this waiting for this. And he wasn't being dramatic and he wasn't even being angry, although I would have been. He was just telling the truth. And it hit me like a total gut punch. It felt like he was holding the physical weight of all those postponed dreams. All the some days, all the when work slows down, when the kids go off to school, when I have more money, when I meet Mr. Right, when I meet Mrs. Right, when I retire, when it's the right time. Now I didn't say much, but inside I was thinking, this is what regret sounds like. It's honest and it's vulnerable and it's oftentimes too late. So a few weeks later, we took a trip to Martha's Vineyard and it was to celebrate his 72nd birthday and my 48th birthday. And it was magical. We spent a few days just being together as a family, wandering through the shops and having coffee and walking the coastline and collecting little shells that I still have in my bathroom. And again, just being a regular family, enjoying each other's company. And on his birthday, we went to celebrate at this really beautiful restaurant that had this great view of the ocean. And I made sure that of course we had the best table in the house because honestly, I thought this might be one of his last birthdays and I wanted it to be super special. My dad, as he always did, he ordered a great bottle of wine. And for a moment, again, everything felt okay. I wish I could just pause that moment and stay in that moment, but that is not how life works, right? And then of course came another one of his wisdom bombs. Mid-toast he said, you know, love, I wish I'd given myself more moments like this, more like this. And I knew that he wasn't just talking about the ocean or the great bottle of wine. He was talking about more time, more presence, more permission to enjoy his life. And he was saying it to me because he knew how I was wired too. And I bet many of you are wired the same way. And then he followed it up with something that I have carried ever since. He said, make now your golden years, figure out what more like this is and do it. Don't wait. Don't wait for later. Don't wait for when the to-do list is done. Don't wait for when life feels easier or more figured out now. And that's what I want to pass on to you. And that's what this entire video is about. Now that conversation made me rethink how I was living my life. Once again, how much I was postponing and what I actually wanted to feel more of while I still could. So now I have been trying to live differently. Am I always successful? Absolutely not. But it is my North star. Okay. Trying to live differently. Let me clarify. Not in a big, quit everything and move to a villa. Although how fabulous would that but that's not it. Just more honest, more present, more doing the things that actually bring me a lot of joy and meaning in my life while I still have the opportunity to live it. So with that in mind, I want to share three things that I've been practicing that might help you too. So number one is I'm defining my more like this list. Okay. I'm calling it my more like this list. Now this is not a bucket list. It's not a vision board per se. It's just a list of the things that I want more of in my life every day, starting now. And here are a few questions that I've been asking to help me shape my list. Okay. First it's what parts of my day do I actually look forward to? What parts of my day do I actually look forward to? And then what am I doing when I feel most like myself? What am I doing when I feel most like myself? And then what would it look like to give myself 5% more of that this week, whatever it is, just 5% more. And those questions help shape my map. Number two, I'm choosing to stop waiting to feel ready. You know what I've realized and I bet you have too, no one ever feels ready. It's a big lie that keeps us stuck. I don't need more clarity. I do not need a productivity system. I don't need a sign from the stars when they're aligned. We just need to choose the thing that matters and take a step towards it. Choose the thing that matters and take one little baby micro step towards it. Text the person, take the walk, right? Book the dinner, say the thing, say the thing while you still have time to say the thing so that you don't regret not saying the thing. The life that we want doesn't show up when things get easier. It shows up when we stop waiting for the version of us that feels more together. Most of the time we're just waiting for permission, the kind that only we can give ourselves. You've heard that before. I've heard it before. That's nothing new. And yet we've still fallen into those traps. No one is handing out permission. So you and I, we need to stop waiting for it and go, go, go, go. Number three, I'm asking better questions. What do you mean by that, Chris? Well, thanks for asking. This one's really big. So I don't know about you, but when bad ---- goes down, sometimes I can get stuck in the why. Why did this happen to me? Why now? Why me? Why did I get cancer? So on and so forth. Why did that big wipe out in my business happen? Why did that relationship blow up? Why, why, why, why, why? And sometimes asking why is absolutely reasonable and helpful. It's how we try to make sense of chaos. In the early days of my diagnosis, I wanted answers because if I could just figure out why, why did this happen? Maybe I could fix it. Very reasonable, very understandable. But over time, I realized that when we get stuck in the whys, just spinning out in the whys, they rarely lead anywhere helpful. It just sends you in circles, replaying the past and trying to logic your way through something that just hurts. So now I ask better questions, the kind that actually move me forward. And most of those questions start with the word what. What do I need right now to feel supported? What am I postponing for no good reason? What would future me thank me for doing today? These questions help me calm my system. They shift me out of panic and back into presence. And they remind me that I'm not here to have it all figured out. That is not my purpose. I'm here to stay connected to my heart and to what matters. So speaking of asking better questions, if this stirred something in you, I made a free coaching session that I think is going to help you. It's called Unstuck and Unstoppable. And it's a five-minute guided writing practice to help you clear the mental clutter that we've been talking about, to rewrite the story that's been holding you back and to reconnect with a more powerful version of yourself. So it's part writing, part coaching, and it's a really powerful way to come back to what matters. And if you want it, just click the link in the description to get it. It's totally free. I hope you enjoy it. Tell me how it helps you. Okay. So some of the things that stick with us don't always feel that big when they're happening. You know what I mean? In fact, sometimes the things that really wake us up or the big ahas, they're usually pretty ordinary, but for whatever reason, they instantly shift how we see things. So one of those moments happened near the end of my dad's life. And we were at my parents' house and he asked me to run an errand for him. He needed me to go to CVS and pick up a few things, including Biore strips. Do you know those little strips? I know me, I was using them in high school, giving myself those facials in the bathroom. They're those little nose strips that pull out the blackheads. That's what he wanted. Now, at this point, let me give you context. He was in hospice. He was just weeks, maybe he had weeks, maybe he had even days to live. His body was breaking down and he was dealing with all of the pain and all of the exhaustion that come with dying. He used to say to me, dying takes a lot of work. And seeing him go through that, I realized, yeah, it sure does. And yet he still wanted to do a facial. And I remember standing there thinking, really dad? This is how you want to spend what little energy that you have left? Absolutely. That is exactly how he wanted to spend it because he still wanted to feel like himself. He still wanted to look, as he would say, spiffy, to have dignity and to feel good about himself and to be normal. And that really struck me because he wasn't waiting to feel better in order to feel good. Let me say that again. He wasn't waiting to feel better in order to feel good. He wasn't holding out for a time when things were easier or more comfortable either. He was just choosing what he could while he still could. And he made me realize how often we don't. We just put joy on hold until somewhere down the line when we create some mythical better version of ourselves that's more productive, more healed, more together often, or maybe more enough. Or we wait for things to get easier before we let ourselves feel even a moment of lightness. But the truth is, joy isn't the reward at the end of the path. It's what makes the path worth walking. Joy doesn't need a perfect moment either. It can slip right into the mess, into the uncertainty, into the pain of whatever we're carrying. And near the end, my dad said something that really struck me and that I want to pass on to you. Going back to making your golden years now, he added, make golden moments throughout your day. You can do that right now. After this video, you can choose to go off and make a golden moment. Not a big gesture, not a full makeover, not new plans. It doesn't have to be so big that it overwhelms you. It shouldn't. That's not golden. Just the small meaningful stuff that actually makes you feel more alive, more connected, more connected to your joy, more connected to your purpose, more connected to yourself. And so with that in mind, my friends, what's one more like this moment that you could make today? I want you to tell me in the comments if you want to. And if you don't, that's all right. But I do want you to just sit with that question. And as always, with everything I always teach, I say, take what helps, leave the rest, and remember to make those golden moments. I love you.