Sitting in bed. Coffee. Rain outside.
Last morning at one of those lodges you don’t want to leave. Sabi Sands. Five days here with a client who gets it. Who showed up not just for the photos but for the conversations between the photos. The real stuff.
Before this was Turkey. Istanbul, Cappadocia. Before that, Amsterdam. Two weeks of movement. Good movement. Great moments. The kind that reminds you why you do this work in the first place.
Now it’s pouring outside my window. That heavy African rain. Absolutely stunning to watch from here. And in a few hours we drive back to Johannesburg to wrap it all up.
Then I have a few days of work left.
Then three weeks off.
Then the year ends and a new one starts and I turn 50.
Fifty.
Yesterday I posted something about “this too shall pass” on my IG. How it applies to everything. The shitty times. The fucking amazing times. All of it.
When things are falling apart, this too shall pass.
When everything’s perfect and you want to freeze the moment, this too shall pass.
Time doesn’t give a fuck about your timelines.
You can’t defeat it. Can’t negotiate with it. Can’t ask it to slow down during the good parts or speed up during the hard ones.
It just moves.
And sitting here watching the rain, coffee getting cold, I keep thinking about how much time we waste waiting for permission that nobody’s going to give us.
This time of year does something to people. December. The end pushing up against whatever comes next. Suddenly everyone gets a touch philosophical whether they want to or not.
What did I actually accomplish this year?
What do I need to do different?
Am I where I thought I’d be?
There’s anxiety. Pressure. For some people, sadness. The whole complicated mess of emotions that shows up when one thing ends and another thing hasn’t started yet.
This too shall pass.
Nobody says the rest of that sentence though.
It doesn’t just mean the hard times will end. It means everything will end. Including whatever you’re living right now. Including the time you have to make changes. Including the window where certain choices are still possible.
This too shall pass. So what the fuck are you waiting for?
I’m planning to cross Greenland next year. My white whale. The thing I keep circling back to when I ask myself what actually matters.
I’m going to share that journey. Document the whole process. Instagram. Probably YouTube. Here on the website. Not for show or other people’s validation. For personal accountability. And for anyone who wants to follow along and see what this actually looks like when someone stops talking about doing something and just does it.
And I can feel something big coming. A change I can’t quite name yet. It’s terrifying if I’m honest. Even though it’s probably for the greater good. Even though some part of me knows it needs to happen.
Because I’m starting to understand something about regrets.
Every decision either way comes with one.
Stay or go. Change or don’t. Move forward or hold still. Whichever way you choose, there’s a regret attached to it. The trick isn’t avoiding regret. It’s figuring out which regrets you can actually live with.
That’s what I’m sitting with right now. Not what I should do. But which version of regret I can carry.
The regret of changing everything and not knowing what’s on the other side.
Or the regret of staying exactly where I am and wondering what could have been.
Something about being honest with myself about who I actually am and what I actually want.
Not what I’m supposed to want.
Not what made sense five years ago when I made different plans with different information.
What do I want now?
You don’t need anyone’s permission to change your mind about your life.
You don’t need permission to admit that something that used to work doesn’t work anymore.
You don’t need permission to stop giving a fuck what people think about your choices.
You don’t need permission to act your age. Whatever that actually means.
Getting permission isn’t the problem. Being honest with yourself about who you actually are and what you actually want before this too passes and you’re out of time. That’s the problem.
People stuck not because they don’t know what they want. But because they’re waiting for someone to tell them it’s okay to want it.
To quit the job that’s killing them.
To end the relationship that stopped working years ago.
To start the thing they keep talking about but never start.
To stop pretending they’re fine with a life that doesn’t fit anymore.
Nobody’s going to give you that permission.
And while you’re waiting, this is passing. Right now. The good parts and the hard parts and the in-between parts where you’re still trying to figure out what you want.
All of it passing.
Some battles are worth fighting. Most aren’t.
Knowing which is which matters less than being honest about when you’re fighting a battle because it matters or because you’re scared of what happens when you stop.
I’m turning 50. Planning an expedition that terrifies me. Feeling a big change coming that I can’t quite describe or explain yet but can’t ignore anymore.
The only permission I’m waiting for is my own.
To be honest about what I want.
To change my mind when things stop working.
To stop explaining myself to people who aren’t living my life.
To choose the battles that actually matter and let the rest go.
To figure out which regrets I can live with and which ones I can’t.
To live fucking life instead of performing a version of it that makes other people comfortable.
This time of year brings up all kinds of feelings. Let them come. Don’t run from the anxiety or the pressure or the sadness or whatever else shows up.
Feel it. Sit with it. Ask yourself what it’s trying to tell you.
And then remember: this too shall pass.
The discomfort will pass.
The clarity will pass.
The moment where change still feels possible will pass.
Everything passes.
The question isn’t whether you have permission to change your life.
The question is: what are you going to do with the time you have before this passes too?
You don’t need permission.
You need honesty.
And you need to move.
Not next year. Not eventually. Not when things calm down or make sense or feel easier.
Now.
Because this too shall pass.
And when it does, the only thing that matters is whether you were honest enough to live the life you actually wanted or whether you spent it waiting for permission that was never coming.
Stay safe.
And don’t forget to be awesome.
