As a hospice doctor, I often have the privilege of being at the bedside of dying patients. Over the years, I’ve had countless conversations about lives well lived, and more often, about regrets. Many of my patients express a strikingly similar sentiment:
I really regret that I never had the energy, money, or time to…
The rest of the sentence varies. For one, it might be writing a book. For another, traveling to a far-off land. For someone else, maybe it’s training for a favorite sport. The specifics change, but the underlying theme is always the same: they missed out on what I call little p purpose—the process-oriented kind of purpose that comes from doing things that light us up from within.
The heartbreaking truth about these deathbed epiphanies is that the dying no longer have the agency to make things right. They’ve run out of time, or strength, or both. What they once could have done, they no longer can.
A large part of my work, and of the books I write, is trying to convince the living to adopt this mindset before it’s too late. To offer the lens of the dying as a kind of instruction manual for how to live now.
We must live as if death is just a breath away.
And yet, again and again, I hear the same explanations for why people don’t prioritize purpose in their daily lives.
I Don’t Have Enough Energy
This one comes up often, especially among young people, busy with careers and raising children. They feel completely depleted by the demands of work and family. The idea of mustering up extra energy to pursue something just for them seems laughable.
But research tells us something interesting. Studies on motivation and physical activity have shown that people with a stronger sense of purpose are actually more likely to feel energized. They experience fewer barriers to action and develop more intrinsic motivation to engage with life.
In other words, energy isn’t necessarily a finite pie. It can grow, especially when we’re engaging with activities that matter to us.
And “purpose” doesn’t have to mean starting a nonprofit or launching a million-dollar business. Little p purpose is smaller. Simpler. It could be reading a good book, taking a walk by the lake, or tinkering with a hobby you loved as a kid. It’s not about the size of the act, it’s about the spark.
I Don’t Have Enough Money
Yes, money is a tool, and a powerful one. But it’s not the only tool.
Often, we overlook other resources that create margin in our lives. Take a working mother with young kids and a demanding job. Maybe she doesn’t have much money or energy right now, but her sister lives nearby. Could she ask for a few hours of help to attend her book club? Could her community offer more support than she’s allowing herself to receive?
When we take inventory of all the tools in our belt—our passions, relationships, skills, youth, knowledge—we often realize we have more than we think. Enough, at least, to begin.
I Don’t Have Enough Time
This one may feel especially true. We’re busier than ever, no doubt bombarded by the demands of work, family, texts, emails, and social media. It’s one of the most common objections I hear.
But data paints a different picture.
The Bureau of Labor Statistics conducts the American Time Use Survey every year, collecting insights from thousands of participants. The most recent findings? Americans spend an average of five hours a day on leisure and sports activities. That’s across all socioeconomic backgrounds. Rich or poor, employed or not—most people have more discretionary time than they realize.
So, if we do have the time, the question becomes: what’s really stopping us?
Purpose Demands Courage
In my years of working with the dying, I’ve learned something unexpected. The true barrier to purpose isn’t energy, money, or time.
It’s courage.
Not bravery in the way we typically define it. I’ve had this conversation with war heroes and daredevil athletes. It’s not about fearlessness. It’s not about skill either. I’ve cared for world-class artisans and bestselling authors. It’s not about knowledge—most of them knew what mattered to them.
What they lacked was the courage to choose those things.
It’s easier to focus on building wealth, pursuing a career, or raising kids. Those are important, yes, but they’re also the low-hanging fruit. They come with clear milestones and societal validation.
Turning toward what lights you up is a much scarier proposition.
What if I’m not good enough?
What if I fail?
What if it doesn’t turn out how I hoped?
What if people laugh at me?
The list of reasons not to pursue your purpose is long.
But there’s one reason that matters more than all the rest:
You might regret it on your deathbed if you don’t.