The Collector of Laters
What happened to all those carefully preserved "laters"?
I met a man who collected "laters."
He kept them in glass jars on his shelf, each carefully labeled with dates and dreams.
"I'll start that business... later."
"I'll call my old friend... later."
"I'll write that book... later."
His collection grew impressive over the years. Thousands of jars, filled with things undone.
Then one day, I visited his home and found it empty. The jars remained, but he was gone.
What happened to all those carefully preserved "laters"?
They expired. Unused. Wasted.
There Is No Later
Later is the default mindset.
Later is the acceptance of your fate.
Later is the self-limiting word of the broken.
Later is where your dream life goes to die.
There is no later, because later you'll be dead.
The clock doesn't care about your plans.
The father who wanted to climb mountains "later," when the kids were older.
Heart attack at 52.
The daughter who wanted to tell her mother how much she loved her, "later," when the timing felt right.
Funeral next Tuesday.
The bus driver who wanted to paint "later," when he retired.
Still driving buses at 78.
Here's what winners understand: The only time that exists is now.
The baker who opened her shop didn't wait until "later" when conditions were perfect.
The father who took his kids fishing didn't postpone until "later" when work slowed down.
The writer who published her book didn't delay until "later" when inspiration struck perfectly.
They knew the secret:
"Later" isn't a time. It's an excuse.
"Later" isn't a plan. It's surrender.
"Later" isn't patience. It's fear wearing a mask.
So today, look at your collection of "laters."
Pick one jar. Open it. Pour its contents into today.
Because there is no warehouse big enough to store all the regrets of those who lived by "later."
There is only now.
~ aq