Life Only Feels Short When You’re Living it Wrong

“Life only feels short when you’re not living it in alignment. When you're chasing instead of connecting.”

Castles Beach, Oahu HI

This thought has been circling my mind for days.

Life is the longest thing we’ll ever have to do — so why is everyone always screaming, “Life is short! Live it to the fullest!”?

I’ve come to realize: life only feels short when you’re not living it in alignment. When you're chasing instead of connecting. It took me way too long to figure that out, but once I did, I felt like I was truly living again.

Now, I know I’m not perfect, and time still flies by me sometimes. But the go-go-go mindset has started to leave my body. I’ve started to feel joy in stillness — in sitting, reflecting, waiting, watching. In letting the world move around me while I stay present in myself, my body, and my feelings.

Finding peace in stillness has probably been one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do. It goes against everything I grew up knowing.

My childhood was constant movement — school, sports, practice after practice, quick dinners, late homework, sleep, repeat. I grew up in a family of three girls, all playing multiple sports, a close-knit crew that supported each other in everything. We squeezed in cottage trips and family adventures between games, tournaments, and commitments. And I’m forever grateful — truly. I love my parents deeply for showing up for us the way they did.

But we were busy.
Always doing.
Rarely just being.

So no, stillness didn’t come naturally to me. Not even a little bit. Not until recently. Not until this year, if I’m being real. And just to be clear — I’m not an expert. I just like to yap.

For the longest time, I wanted to be part of everything. Everyone’s lives. Everyone’s updates. The constant stream of connection that exists through our devices made it feel normal. I was scrolling endlessly, planning the perfect Instagram posts to fit a certain aesthetic, obsessing over how I was being perceived — all while still not knowing how to show up fully for myself.

I was chasing the next hike. The next beach. The next “moment” worth capturing.

And in all that go, I forgot how to pause.
How to feel.
How to actually live the moment instead of trying to capture it for later.

Moving to Hawaiʻi was the catalyst. It cracked something open in me.
Hawaiʻi invites you to slow down. It offers beauty and healing just by existing — the salt water, the landscapes, the quiet. I got connected early with a group of girls that turned into a Tuesday night Bible study, and honestly, I credit that space for reshaping my perspective. You girls know who you are — and I love you so much.

We had deep talks. Repeatedly. About hustle, about slowing down, about unlearning the need to hurry.

One recurring theme: the sacred act of stillness.

There’s a podcast that was shared with me (I’ll link it below — seriously, go listen), and it hit hard. I started practicing what it suggested — letting my mind wander without interruption, turning off my phone for 24 hours, leaving it in another room, disconnecting from the noise.

That’s when something clicked.

For the first time in a long time, a calm washed over me. Not just mentally, but physically. It felt like my nervous system finally stopped buzzing. I realized how often my phone — and everything attached to it — was pulling me out of my own life.

I still get lost in the shuffle. I still fall back into the noise.
But now, I notice it.
And more importantly, I know how to come back to myself.