Hiren Deliwala
By Hiren Deliwala
We all experience time differently. As we grow older, our perception often speeds up, blurs, and sometimes feels like it’s slipping through our fingers. But no matter how we experience it, most of us share the same truth: we’re starved for time.
Ask almost anyone how they’re doing, and you’ll hear the same response: “Busy.” It’s become our cultural password. Someone suggests coffee, starting a new initiative, or trying Pickleball (which I’ve been claiming I’ll try for years), and the script comes out: “I’d love to, but I just don’t have the time. I’m so busy. Maybe when things settle down.”
But things almost never settle down. There’s never a perfect moment waiting like a neatly wrapped gift. Life simply doesn’t work that way.
The Priorities That Consume Us
Our days fill up quickly. Family needs attention. Work demands multiply. Responsibilities pile up like dishes after a busy weekend — and it stings even more when the dishwasher isn’t working. Before we know it, our calendar looks like a game of Tetris with no gaps left. Finding time for anything beyond immediate demands becomes truly challenging.
But here’s what we rarely admit: when we say that “I don’t have time,” we’re saying we lack the mental space and energy. Sure, we could squeeze it in, but we don’t have the focus or capacity to give it our best.
That’s why we hesitate. We want to do things right. We convince ourselves that when we have more time, more energy, more clarity, then we’ll finally begin that project or learn that skill.
A Different Way of Thinking
But what if we changed the conversation?
What if, instead of saying “I don’t have time,” we started each day thinking: “It’s my time.”
Not someday. Not maybe. Not “when things settle down.” But now — because now is the only time we truly have.
Imagine starting each morning with this thought. Not as pressure, but as presence. This is my time for challenges, dreams, and passion projects. This is my time to show up fully, to move forward instead of endlessly delaying for a future I can’t predict or control.
Some things require timing — like a vacation planned for next year — but most of what we postpone doesn’t fall into that category.
The Weight of the Someday List
We and I have long lists of things we’ll do “someday, maybe.” I collected many of these items over the years, and they sat untouched before I eventually tossed them out.
I realized not everything deserves to happen, and this isn’t about turning life into a frantic bucket-list race. It’s about recognizing what genuinely matters and choosing to make progress now, instead of letting things sit forever and facing regret after the moment has passed.
There truly is a time for everything. Some experiences fit certain seasons of life. I’d rather try bungee jumping in my twenties, thirties, or forties than in my fifties. Some windows narrow. Some doors open now but won’t later.
And beyond that, none of us knows how much time we have. I’m not trying to be morbid, just real. If we woke up tomorrow thinking “This is my time,” who knows what might shift? Maybe nothing. Maybe we slip into old patterns. But maybe we finally move toward what we want instead of endlessly preparing to begin.
Every Moment Is My Time
Every moment is my time because I choose how to show up. I can’t control everything — life changes, curveballs appear — but I control my response: my intention, my awareness, my presence.
When we view time this way, it stops happening to us and becomes something we participate in. It’s not about control or hyper-productivity. It’s about recognizing that now is the only moment guaranteed.
So how do we make this shift?
It doesn’t require a massive overhaul or quitting your job to travel the world. It starts smaller. It starts with noticing. Tomorrow morning, try thinking: “This is my time.” See how it feels. Notice what shifts.
Maybe you carve out fifteen minutes for something meaningful. Maybe you make that call. Maybe you simply see your life with more clarity. No, we can’t suddenly do everything. But we can make consistent progress on what matters — right now — instead of waiting for a perfect moment that may never come.
Because the point isn’t perfection. The point is presence.
Apna Time Aayega (Your time will come).
But more importantly:
Apna Time Aaj Hai.
Hiren Deliwala is a Charlotte-based overthinker, closet philosopher, and avid board gamer. He writes about everyday life, Indian upbringing, and finding humor in the chaos. When not philosophizing over chai, he’s usually losing arguments to his wife and, shockingly, learning from them. Contact: hcdeliwala@gmail.com
