What If We Run Out of Time?
Published by Ryan Gollan / 19 Feb 2025
Have you ever felt like life is moving too fast, but somehow, you’re not moving fast enough? Like time is slipping through your fingers, yet you haven’t done enough to feel complete?
I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately. (*Pouring a glass of wine)
I don’t know if it’s a mid-life crisis arriving too early, or if I’m just thinking too much.
But the truth is, I feel unfinished. Maybe many of us do feel similar.
I feel like I’ve done a fair bit, but also not enough.
I feel like I’ve built things, achieved things, overcome things, but I still don’t feel like I’ve arrived or even close to that.
And then, a friend passed away recently. Quietly. Alone.
No announcement. No goodbyes. No funeral. Just… gone.
Even though we were not that close, but it left my mind spinning (for days) - About all of us. About time. About everything we think we have forever to do.
The Weight of Time & The Fear That We Won’t Have Enough of It
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how little time we actually have.
Not in a dramatic, existential crisis kind of way - but in that deep, quiet realisation that no matter how much we achieve, time never slows down for us.
One day, it just runs out.
And I can’t stop wondering:
How much time do we really have left?
And are we spending it the way we truly want to?
Or are we too busy chasing something we can’t even define?
Because let’s be honest - so much of what we do is about chasing something.
Wealth. Status. Success. Validation.
But what if we spend our entire lives chasing… and never actually feel like we’ve caught it?
What if we are always one step away from feeling whole - but that step keeps moving?
The Illusion of Wealth & The One Thing It Cannot Buy
We structure, we invest, we plan for generations ahead.
But what if we are preserving the wrong things?
Wealth can buy houses, watches, art, security, even influence.
But it cannot buy time, love, or the ability to relive a single perfect moment.
And at the end of it all, time still wins.
And money doesn’t change that.
So what are we actually building?
What are we leaving behind?
And more importantly - who are we leaving behind?
The Fear of Losing Loved Ones & The People Who Make Us Feel Alive
If you ask me what I fear most, it’s not failure.
It’s regret.
I’m afraid of waking up one day and realising:
💔 I never said “I love you” enough.
💔 I spent more time working than living.
💔 I measured success in numbers instead of in moments.
Because at the end of it all, legacy isn’t just about inheritance, or business succession, or art collections.
💡 Legacy is about people. About love. About what we leave behind in the hearts of those who knew us.
And yet, how often do we actually prioritise the people we love over everything else?
How often do we rush through a conversation with someone because we’re “too busy”?
How often do we put off seeing someone we care about because “there’s always tomorrow”?
But what if tomorrow never comes?
The Next-Gen Crisis: Inheriting Everything, Yet Feeling Incomplete
Some are born into wealth. Others spend a lifetime building it.
But in both cases, the same question lingers:
👉 What if I never feel successful enough?
👉 What if, no matter how much I achieve, I still feel like I haven’t done enough?
We think success will feel like a finish line.
We tell ourselves, “Once I reach this milestone, then I’ll feel like I’ve made it.”
But what if that moment never comes?
What if we reach that milestone… and still feel like something is missing?
I don’t want to spend my life chasing something I will never catch.
I don’t want to wake up too late and realise that I spent my life collecting achievements instead of collecting memories.
Because when it’s all over, no one will remember the money, the investments, or the deals.
They will remember how we made them feel.
What Do We Truly Leave Behind?
Maybe the real purpose of family offices, next-gen leadership, and philanthropy isn’t just about preserving wealth.
Maybe it’s also about:
✔ Preserving wisdom → passing down more than just money.
✔ Preserving love → making sure our families stay close, connected, and whole.
✔ Preserving impact → building something that matters, that lives beyond numbers.
Because if we cannot stop time, at least we can make it meaningful.
Thought: What If We Measured Wealth in Love?
If I could preserve anything, it wouldn’t be money.
It wouldn’t be success.
It wouldn’t be legacy in the traditional sense.
💙 It would be time with the people I love.
But since time cannot be preserved, then maybe the best we can do is:
✔ Love deeply, before it’s too late.
✔ Live fully, before we run out of days.
✔ Give more than we take.
✔ Measure wealth not in assets, but in impact.
Because at the end of it all, that’s the only wealth that truly lasts.
💬 "Have you ever felt this way? What do you think is the real measure of success?" Maybe we should often pause to ask: “What do I really want to leave behind?”
