There's so much time.

Life is actually really long.

I am an innate rusher. I push. I am impatient. I want it all now. I want all the books to be written today. I want all the essays, written this week. When I want something, I want it now.

I actually love my capacity for creation and my hunger to create. I do not want to dampen my ambition. The lust for creativity that runs through my veins is a holy part of who I am. But I am gently coaxing myself into the reality that: there is time for all of this. There is no rush. It is all unfolding in perfect timing, sometimes slowly, sometimes fast. But I don’t need to rush anything because life is long.

Yes, there is so much to do, and there is also plenty of time to do it.

Let’s start with this Taika Waititi moment that actually low key changed shit for me:

What if life is actually long … what if it’s deliciously long, almost annoyingly long. What if you’ve got lots of time to do all the beautiful things you want to do?

How does your body and mind respond to that?

Mine fucking unfurls.

Remember, as artists, writers, thinkers - we are not like athletes, we don’t need to retire at 35. We get to create things for life. This is not a job that we retire from. It is the way we live. The way we live until we die.

Life, as Taika says, takes forever. Let’s fill that forever with art.

Is this a useful perspective?

It is for me, in this moment, right now. And I think it might be useful for me for a very long time to come.

When I see my career as an author to be a deliciously long thing, that will be stretched out over decades of my life, I am not so worried about the opportunity I missed out on today. I don’t need to obsess over my book sales for this month. It’s bigger than that. When I understand that I could get really into watercolours when I am 55 and still have decades to dally about in the craft, I feel soft, and at ease. My central nervous system relaxes.

It is not optimal for my nervous system to create with the narrative “life is short”. It is delicious and luxurious for me to create with the narrative that “life is long.”

This perspective doesn’t rob me of ambition. It doesn’t make me hesitate. I am still hungry, I still have an unreasonable amount of book ideas and the desire to see the stories come to life - but I can see beyond the next few weeks when I use this lens. I can get ambitious about the books that I will write when I am 66, double my age now, when I use this lens. I can sink into my present moment and actually take a deep breath, because - the 2nd of june 2025 isn’t the day where everything needed to happen, and the 3rd of June isn’t a day to rush, because these days are simply more delicious days, in a long delicious life.

Your creative journey is bigger than today, this year, this decade. Your creative career is your entire fucking life, and we need to start seeing it in that light.

We have been told that “life’s short” can be motivating.

And it can be, perhaps you’re in a “life’s short” phase right now. It can be activating. It can frighten you into alignment. But I don’t need to be frightened right now. And I wonder if, perhaps, you don’t either? I don’t need to envision death nipping at my heels in order to provoke action. I need to luxuriate in my days, I need to trust, and delight, create and be patient.

The truth is that life does feel short when you are not living in alignment. Life is short when you’re spending day after day not doing what you want to do. Perhaps meditating on Memento mori - (remember you must die) - allows you to find the courage to demand a life that you love.

But, personally, I don’t want to meditate on death right now. Not only because I have OCD, and I constantly think about dying anyway, but because I am already on the path. I don’t need to rush, or hurry to take action because I am already doing what I am meant to be doing, taking baby steps each day, creating connecting, living in purpose. Therefore, I get to and I choose to experience life as long.

And sure, I could die tomorrow - but I am not interested in living my life anticipating trauma around the corner. It doesn’t help me.

Instead, my present moment stretches out like a cat in the sun. My time is languid and soft and oozes like honey. My life is taking forever.

My book We Need Your Art has a whole chapter on patience, and it’s the chapter that I personally needed the most. If you are feeling the pressure, the pushing, the rushing, the mistrust - it’s time to read this baby of mine. Let me slow you down, let me remind you that your creative success is inevitable. There’s lots of time.