Time isn’t just slipping through your fingers, it’s running the show. And if you don’t master it, it will continue to enslave you.
Your relationship with the past, present and future determines how you live your life.
The past doesn’t exist as a static reality because it becomes whatever narrative you create about it.
Real life happens in the present but most people remain oblivious to this fact.
And the future? It’s not a fantasy, nor is it light years away. It is an empty canvas that is just waiting for you to pick up a paintbrush.
Rewrite your story. Take control of your time. Change your life.
Time Is a Slippery Bastard
Time proves to be a slippery concept because it defies our expectations. Sure, we measure it with clocks and calendars, but the way we experience it? That’s personal. Emotional. Messy as hell. And here’s the kicker: how you relate to time—your past, your present, your future—can either make your life extraordinary or turn it into a slow-motion train wreck.
Phil Zimbardo, the guy behind the Stanford Prison Experiment, breaks time orientation into six categories. You’ve got past-positive people who focus on the good stuff they’ve lived through. Then there are the past-negative types, stuck in regret and pain, replaying their worst moments like a bad movie on loop. Present hedonists? They’re all about chasing pleasure in the now, while present fatalists throw their hands up and say, “What’s the point? Nothing I do matters.” Then you’ve got the goal-oriented future planners, always working toward something, and the transcendental future folks, who are banking on rewards after death.
Where you land on this spectrum? That’s the difference between thriving and just surviving.
The Past Isn’t What You Think It Is
Let’s talk about the past. It’s done, isn’t it? You can’t change what happened to you, but you can change the story you tell yourself about what happened.
The story. It’s everything.
Memory is an unreliable narrator. We cherry-pick details, assign meanings, and then we are defined by those meanings. The thing is this: the meaning you assign to your past is a choice. A choice that can either free you or hold you to the ground.
When I was a child, my grandfather was my world. My grounding, my hero, my everything. The one person I knew would always be there for me. And one day, he was taken from my life. He died, and my parents didn’t take me to the hospital to say goodbye. They didn’t even tell me he was dying until after he was gone. I didn’t get to see him one last time. I didn’t get to hold his hand. I didn’t get to tell him I loved him. I didn’t get closure. I didn’t get a goodbye. I carried that moment with me everywhere I went.
I was a child, so I made up a story.
They didn’t take me because I didn’t matter.
They couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt me.
Or maybe they just didn’t care.
That became my truth. That became the story of who I was: invisible, unimportant, someone whose feelings didn’t matter.
Every time I thought of my grandfather, that was the feeling I felt. That was the weight around my neck. But that story wasn’t true. At least, not entirely true. It was the story I decided to believe. The version that made the most sense to a small, grieving, and confused child.
As an adult, I started asking different questions.
What if they didn’t take me because they were too broken to do anything else?
What if they thought they were doing what was best for me?
What if they were as adrift as I was?
I’ll never know what their reasoning was. What I do know is this: the meaning I gave to that moment was what caused me pain, not just the moment itself.
The more I reframed it, the more I could look at it with compassion and not blame, the more I was able to move through it. It didn’t magically erase the pain, but it did open up space for healing to occur. It gave me space to remember my grandfather for the love he gave me and not just the goodbye he never gave me.
This is the power of rewriting your story.
It’s not about pretending that the past didn’t happen or sugarcoating the hurt. It’s about choosing a perspective that serves you that allows you to move forward instead of being stuck.
The Present Is Where Life Happens
If you’re languishing in fatalism and living with the belief that nothing matters, you’re giving up your life. Sure, you don’t want to live like a hedonist, where you give in to every fleeting whim. But you also can’t ignore the now. The present is where life happens. This is where you’ll laugh with your friends, watch the sunrise, and feel that sweet, sweet high of victory. If the present isn’t bringing you joy, what’s the point?
The present is your playground. This is where you can try new things, connect with others, and build. But you have to be intentional. Ask yourself: What’s one thing I can do today to make the present matter?
The Future Is Your Canvas
And then there’s the future. Goals. Aspirations. Plans. Dreams. Look, I’m not saying you need to be religious to buy into this. And you don’t have to be a list-making machine or a “What’s Next?” junkie to have these things. But you should look far ahead. I mean it. These are your north stars, you know? You need those in your life. They provide your life with direction. They give you a reason to get out of bed. A reason to keep going.
Here’s your fulcrum: be kind to your past, engaged with your present, and active with your future.
It takes work. Not easy. But do-able. And if you do it? Look at you, sitting in the sweet spot. Dig out the good in your past. Revel in the good that makes your life so rich right now. And look to the future with hope and a little planning. That’s how you make time your ally, instead of your enemy.
Rewrite Your Story, Rewrite Your Life
But, see, here’s the rub: this is all work. Not magical. Not mystical. Hard work.
So here’s what you do:
Sit down. Open up. Ask yourself some tough questions.
What’s one story in your past that you need to put to rest or revise?
What’s one meaningful thing you can do today to engage in the present more deeply?
What’s one future goal that you can set that’ll excite you?
Start with that.
Your Next Step (This is where it gets real)
Look, the way I see it, time isn’t a thing we “have.” It’s how we experience life. And if you can change that…change that experience? Well, then, you’ve already won. So here’s what I’m gonna ask you to do: keep engaging with your story. Don’t just read this post and move on. And then, when you’re done? Share your story. Use it. Rewrite it. And if you’re willing to go one more step? To start to take control of your story, of your narrative, of your time and your life? Then…I’ll be right here waiting.
Because your future life? It’s waiting for the best version of you. And that version? It’s not gonna show up by accident. It’s built, day by day, choice by choice, action by action. So, stop waiting. Start writing. Let’s make it happen. Click here, join me, and let’s rewrite your story together.
Your future self is counting on it.
You make a lot on interesting points and I will keep this to read again.