There is a strange, jarring clarity that comes when life forces you to pause. For Alfred Bernhard Nobel, that clarity arrived through a mistaken newspaper error. The inventor of dynamite read his own prematurely published obituary and realized he detested the legacy he was leaving behind. For the rest of us, that perspective often through life’s unexpected disruptions.
It comes in the silence following retrenchment from a corporate job you tried so hard to adapt to. It comes standing in front of a mirror, wearing plain clothes without a trace of makeup, realizing that the life you were living was designed for everyone else except you.
We live in a world that conditions us to live on autopilot. Most of us drift into an echo chamber of daily habits, external expectations, and the relentless pressure of perfection. But the noise fades when you are forced to look at life through the lens of memento mori, the ancient reminder that our days are inherently finite.
You are left with a simple, confronting question: Are you living true to yourself, or merely existing for others?
Trapped by Perfection
For years, many of us build invisible prisons in our minds. We attempt to match the rhythm of a fast-paced, competitive society. We replicate content schedules, mask our true selves to appear socially acceptable, and strain to stay relevant in an endless digital noise.
We try to control every outcome. When things go off-script, whether it is a sudden job loss, health complications, or accidentally burning dinner in a frying pan, we punish ourselves relentlessly. We forget that perfection is a construct, but grace is a choice.
Masking and striving to fit someone else’s definition of success is exhausting. If everyone strive to be the exact same version of "successful," the world would just be an echo chamber of squawking parrots. Our true value lies in our individual lens, including our unique background, our lived experiences, our vulnerabilities, and even our trauma.
Giving yourself permission to be imperfect isn't quitting. It is unburdening yourself from a heavy backpack you were never meant to carry. Your life is not a performance for an audience.
What The Dying Teach Us About Living
In The Top Five Regrets of the Dying (2011), palliative nurse Bronnie Ware noted that the single most common regret people expressed at the end of their lives was not having the courage to live true to themselves. Hospices and graveyards, as motivational speaker Les Brown famously observed, are filled with unrealized potential. They hold dreams never pursued, thoughts never expressed, and lives lived entirely in the harbor of safety.
As hospice doctor Jordan Grumet shares in The Purpose Code (2025), the happiest people are those who actively invest in who they aspire to become, rather than letting their environment make choices for them by default.
When you face personal losses, memento mori ceases to be a morbid concept. Instead, it becomes an urgent, liberating call to action. It reminds us of a few crucial truths:
Failure isn't the tragedy; remaining unexpressed is. Daniel Pink’s research on regret shows that over time, we regret what we didn't try far more than the things we attempted and failed at.
Focus is finite. Author Oliver Burkeman reminds us that because our time is limited, living a fulfilling life isn't about doing everything. It is about deliberately choosing what to leave undone.
You don't need to be in a race to have value. Instead of constantly comparing yourselves to others, you can choose to protect your peace away from social media, and still be wholly, beautifully enough.
Reclaiming the Unspoken Words
For those who have experienced situational mutism, the feeling of having thoughts trapped inside without the ability to speak them aloud is deeply familiar. That struggle highlights a universal truth: too many of us carry our intellectual and spiritual wealth to the grave unspoken.
Writing, creating, and choosing to show up authentically, even when you aren't sure if anyone is reading or listening, is an act of courage. It is the active decision to drop the heavy load of regret and step out of the harbor.
John A. Shedd famously wrote, "Ships in harbor are safe, but that is not what ships are built for."
Staying anchored in our comfort zone might protect us from criticism, failure, or uncomfortable exposure. However, safe harbors are not where fulfillment is found. Real living happens when we raise the anchor and set sail, even into uncertain waters.
A Moment for Self-Reflection
If you find yourself awake in the quiet hours of the night, weighed down by expectations or the fear of an uncertain future, take a breath and reflect on these three questions:
What is keeping you anchored? Identify the underlying obstacle, external expectation, limiting belief, or fear holding you back.
What voyage have you been postponing? Identify the authentic life, voice, or path you actually want to pursue.
What is one small shift you can make today? Identify the smallest next step to leave the harbor. If a situation is completely out of your control, give yourself grace and release it.
None of us are given a guarantee of tomorrow, but we are given full ownership of today. You do not need to overhaul your life overnight. But don't carry your unwritten words, your quiet dreams, or your true self to the grave simply because you were waiting for the right moment to be brave. Do something for yourself today by taking a small step toward the life you are actually waiting to live.
© 2026 Boey Hui Foong, Wendy. All rights reserved.
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Once a week, I put together a curated collection of field notes and good reads on work culture and living intentionally.