At a certain point in my life, I lived in Manhattan. We had a business operation there, and one of our partners was a young entrepreneur named Kevin. Kevin owned a translation company, and together we were trying to launch a venture that combined the worlds of translation and the internet.
One day, I suggested to Kevin that he join me on a short trip to Costa Rica for a few days.
“No way,” he said. “It’s simply impossible.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“My daughter’s preschool.” He explained.
“Preschool?” I was surprised.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s an elite preschool that she has to attend in order to get into Harvard.”
“Excuse me?” That sounded a bit extreme.
“Wait,” I said, “isn’t there also elementary school, high school, and more along the way?”
“There is,” he replied, “but at every stage, there’s a specific place she needs to be in order to stay on track for that ultimate goal.”
He was completely serious.
Now, that may sound a bit over the top—but if we’re honest, we may find similar patterns in our own lives: entire lifetimes spent in preparation for the future. Is this what you really want to be doing right now? Maybe not—but it doesn’t matter, right? What matters is moving forward... Each phase is viewed only as a stepping stone, not as something meaningful in and of itself. Precious time is lived “on the way” to the next thing.
Of course, goals and aspirations are important. But sometimes the opposite happens: when we constantly project ourselves into the future—endlessly preparing for a moment that hasn’t arrived (and may never come)—we risk missing this moment. What's more, we risk missing ourselves. We miss the opportunity that G-d is giving us right now, even in moments of difficulty or lack.
When I accept that life is happening now, I find myself committed to living in this moment. Anything that disrupts my ability to be present must be examined. Does it relate to my life? If not, it doesn’t belong.
When I was younger, in the early days of my startup, I lived in southern Tel Aviv. I didn’t have a car, so I would borrow my mother’s. But she couldn’t always lend it to me, so on some days, I walked to work. It wasn’t too far—but it was a walk.
One day, as I was walking, I realized I saw the walk itself as meaningless. It was a phase I just wanted to be over with, as quickly as possible. Why? I asked myself. The answer came quickly: because I had a lot of urgent and important things to do at the office.
That was true—at least partially—but I decided to try something different: to live the walk as well. I decided that the walk itself had meaning, that I was alive now, not just once I got to the office. That decision gave a new and different quality to the walk. It didn’t eliminate my desire to reach the office—but I enjoyed the journey. And afterward, I found that my work went better too.
The insight that struck me was this: If you’re here, then G-d is giving you life right now. He wants you to live here—not just wait until you arrive somewhere else. Yes, there’s life there too—but there is also life here.
From Ran Weber's new book, "Live the Day." To purchase, visit Hidabroot Shops or call: 073-222-125
