The finality of a funeral service always acts as a stark reminder of mortality, shattering the human tendency to live as though death is a distant, abstract possibility.

The physical reality of the body and the formal ceremony make the loss undeniable, forcing every one in attendance, out of denial or shock and into an acknowledgment of the death’s permanence.

Yesterday I bore witness to and was forced to confront my own limited time and existence, by a deacon, who reminded everyone that one day, it will be their picture on the funeral programme. That realization was both terrifying and also a catalyst for introspection.

For one, I vowed to eliminate the comfortable illusion of an infinite “later,” and to shift my focus to the importance of the present moment – the only one we really can count on.

I was reminded of Mary Oliver’s poem ‘The Summer Day’ … the most famous lines of this poem being the last two:

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

This funeral triggered profound questions around my existence, spirituality, and what matters to me most in life. So much so that I got up at 3 am this morning…not afraid…but determined to change one thing in particular –

The habit of waiting.

My entire life has been one big wait.

That’s not drama. That’s my insight.

Waiting has been my survival strategy:

• waiting to be chosen
• waiting for the right moment
• waiting for relief
• waiting for recognition
• waiting until it’s safe
• waiting until the money comes
• waiting until I feel ready

Waiting has kept me from risking the wrong thing. It has kept me from committing too early. In short – waiting has in a way, protected me. But it also quietly trained my nervous system to believe that life starts later.

The funeral yesterday collapsed the illusion of “later”.

It stripped away strategy, positioning, planning, and revealed one blunt truth:

Garvin Ignatius Simonette used his life!

It was not about fame, success, or productivity but an aliveness.

My thinking in the wee hours of the morning wasn’t – “I should do more.” it was… “Am I actually living?”

This is a very different question.

What followed promptly was the urge to “start over”

I immediately wanted to…

• start a new journal
• start a new 12-week cycle
• reset my plan
• re-declare intentions

This was less about clarity and more to feel relief. A fresh start felt like I was giving myself permission to stop carrying the weight of what hasn’t happened yet.

Staring at the funeral programme, I recognized that this starting over ruse was just another form of waiting. I was postponing yet again, another moment to simply stand inside my life as it is and act from THERE.

The fear underneath

The truth is, if I stopped waiting, resetting or preparing then I’d have to live NOW without guarantees. This part almost always felt dangerous.

What not to do

I’m a solopreneur so I had to have the talk with myself. Firm yet gentle…

• Do not overhaul your business right now
• Do not redesign your positioning
• Do not create a new program
• Do not start a new “journey”
• Do not seek a grand reframe

You already know this: more tweaking won’t help.

This moment doesn’t need strategy. It needs presence.

So what does not wasting another moment actually mean for me?

It does not mean:

• hustling
• doing more
• proving anything
• making bold announcements

It means this:

With immediate effect – I intend to quit postponing my life until conditions are perfect.

It means choosing one ordinary, unglamorous act of aliveness today that isn’t about fixing the future. Something small. Concrete. Now. Not symbolic. Not aspirational.

This could look like…

• Take a slow walk without a podcast
• Sit with your coffee and do nothing else
• Write one paragraph that you will never publish
• Make a simple meal deliberately
• Say no to one unnecessary obligation
• Do something slightly inconvenient but honest

These are not productivity moves. They are re-entry points into life.

One final thing I want to say

I’m not behind…I’m not broken nor am I misaligned.

I am at the exact moment where waiting has stopped working — and that’s painful because it means I can’t hide there anymore.

I haven’t wasted my life so far but now my life is asking to be lived without delay…NOW.

Strategic Reflection Prompt:

If I stopped waiting today, what would I do differently in the next hour?

About Giselle

I’m Giselle Hudson, a Pre-Decision Diagnostic Advisor. I work with leaders when something feels off — where results, decisions, or team response don’t match what was expected. I examine what’s shaping outcomes beneath the surface, so the next move is grounded, not reactive.

If this feels familiar, don’t rush your next decision. We can look at your situation properly before you take action.