Let’s Get Off the Timeline
SEGMENT 5 · Soften and Forgive
EPISODE 4
Let’s Get Off the Timeline
Begin again as you heal.
“You do not have to finish healing to begin living.” — Dr. Kidi
“They told me I have six months to live. Give or take.”
She spoke in a voice made hoarse by esophageal cancer.
She had married, raised children, and worked in the same office for years. Every Sunday, she sang in her church choir, a tradition she had carried with her since childhood and one of the greatest joys of her life.
She first came to see me because she could no longer reach the high notes. And that gradual change in her voice led to her diagnosis.
“What do you think, Doc? Do you think I have six months?”
Though she looked directly into my eyes, she seemed far away, already at the finish line of her life.
“Let me ask you something,” I said. “Do you think I have six months to live?”
She turned toward the only window in the room and looked outside. I wondered if she was searching for an answer, or simply trying to make sense of my question.
“What do you mean?” she asked, still looking out the window.
“I mean, do you know how long I have left to live?”
She turned to me.
“You have many years ahead of you,” she said with confidence.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t,” she admitted. “But that’s what I believe.”
“Well,” I said, “I don’t know exactly how long you have left to live either. But there is one thing I know for certain.”
I paused.
“You are alive. Right here. Right now.”
Living at the Finish Line
As we spoke, I wondered how much of her attention had already moved to the end of her life.
I wanted so badly to bring her back to the chair she was sitting in, to the breath she was taking, and to the life that was still hers to live.
I understood why we, as her doctors, had given her an estimate. Her illness was serious, and knowing that her time might be short could help her make decisions and prepare for what lay ahead.
But I did not want those six months to become all she could see.
I wanted her to know that even with an uncertain future, she still had today. She still had people to love, conversations to have, and, if she felt well enough, Sundays to sing with her church choir.
Preparing for the end of life should not mean giving up the life we still have.
Of course, her circumstances were far more difficult than the everyday uncertainties many of us face. But even without a diagnosis or a prognosis, we often put our lives on hold, waiting for something to happen before we allow ourselves to live fully.
When I retire, I will rest.
When the business is stable, I will spend more time with my children.
When I lose the weight, I will buy the dress. I will go to the reunion. I will let people see me.
When I feel like myself again, I will reach out.
When I am over this, I will begin.
Every "when I..." becomes another reason to put something that matters on hold.
But what happens when retirement is delayed? When the business remains uncertain? When our bodies change, or we never quite feel like our old selves again?
The life we keep promising ourselves moves further out of reach.
And over time, waiting can turn into self-judgment.
Why am I still here?
Continuing to blame ourselves for how long it is taking, while we are already struggling, only adds to the pain we are trying to heal.
And yet, we keep expecting ourselves to be over it by now, whether we are grieving a loss, recovering from an illness, or trying to find our way through a difficult time.
As though healing has a deadline.
Where the Clock Comes From
But where did we learn that healing is supposed to happen on a schedule?
Sometimes, the message begins at home.
Stop crying. It's time to move on. That was a long time ago.
We hear it at work, too. A few days of bereavement leave ends, and we're expected back at our desks, as though returning to work means we're ready to carry on as before.
And sometimes, no one has to say anything.
Friends call often in the first weeks after a loss. Then the calls become less frequent. Eventually, the silence itself can make us wonder whether we should be feeling better by now.
And the pressure to follow a timeline goes beyond healing. It can shape how we think about our entire lives.
Have you ever hesitated when someone asked your age?
Joked about turning twenty-nine again?
Taken “You look younger than your age” as a compliment?
Why do we do that?
Because age often comes with expectations, especially for women. By a certain age, we are supposed to have reached certain milestones.
Marriage.
Children.
A home.
A career.
Financial security.
A clear sense of who we are.
Instead of celebrating another year of life, a birthday can become a reminder of everything we think we should have accomplished by now.
And sometimes, age doesn't just remind us of what we haven't done. It becomes a reason not to try.
I'm too old to begin.
I should have figured this out years ago.
We begin measuring our lives against expectations we may never have chosen for ourselves.
And when we don't meet them, we judge ourselves for falling behind.
But behind according to whom?
Before you ask yourself to move faster, consider whose timeline you are trying to follow.
Always Trying to Catch Up
Have you ever heard someone's good news and immediately calculated how old they were when it happened?
Compared your child's progress to another child and wondered why yours wasn't further along?
Or felt like you were running out of time, even when no one was asking you to hurry?
We do this so often that we may not realize how much time we spend measuring our lives against someone else's.
And the conclusion is almost always the same.
I should be further along.
I should have done more by now.
Why am I still here?
When we constantly feel behind, it becomes difficult to appreciate where we are. Our attention stays fixed on where we think we should already be.
And that pressure doesn't stay only in our thoughts.
It can show up in our bodies. In tense shoulders. A furrowed brow. A clenched jaw. An upset stomach. A headache that keeps returning.
When this sense of urgency becomes constant, it can contribute to chronic stress, affecting our sleep, mood, and physical health.
This is one way the body speaks.
And here is something else I have noticed.
The more we feel behind, the harder it can become to take the next step.
Worrying about what we haven't accomplished consumes time and energy we could be using to do what is possible today.
We compare. We criticize ourselves. We feel discouraged. Sometimes we avoid trying because we are afraid of falling further behind.
And then we blame ourselves for not making progress.
Do you see the cycle?
This is where I invite you to pause.
The next time you hear someone's good news, notice whether you immediately begin comparing.
Can you celebrate their achievement without turning it into a judgment about your own life?
Can you recognize where you are without measuring it against where someone else has arrived?
And can you use the time you have today without constantly worrying that it is running out?
You do not have to catch up to someone else's life to begin living your own.
Begin Again, From Here
A Tinfash Healing Time Practice
What have you been waiting to finish before allowing yourself to begin living?
Grieving? Healing? Becoming the person you thought you would be by now?
Take a moment to pause.
Now ask yourself:
Whose timeline am I trying to follow?
Sit with that question for a moment.
Is it a timeline you chose, or one you have come to believe you must follow?
You do not have to wait until everything is resolved to take a step forward.
Make the call. Sign up for the class. Write the first page. Ask for help.
Whatever you choose, resist the urge to turn it into another race.
You do not have to make up for lost time.
Remind yourself:
I am here now.
And here is a good place to begin.
If you'd like to spend more time with this reflection, join me for the full guided Tinfash Healing Time practice on YouTube.
A Closing Reflection
A Closing Reflection
She had been told six months. She lived another five years.
And she kept singing.
Her voice was no longer what it had been, but she continued singing in her church choir for as long as her body allowed.
That is what gives me joy.
I could not promise her more time. But I continued to remind her that even though life had not turned out as she expected, there was still life to be lived.
And now I want to ask you: What have you been putting off until you reach a certain age, achieve a milestone, or finally feel ready?
What are you waiting to begin?
What if you allowed yourself to begin now, with the time, the body, and the life you have today?
You are here. You are alive.
You do not have to finish healing to begin living.
In our next episode, Offer Yourself Mercy, we will explore how to meet ourselves where we are, without making kindness something we must first earn.
A Mantra to Carry
I am here now. I can begin from here.
Say it quietly.
Let it separate who you were from who you are becoming.
Journal Invitation
Write by hand.
What have you put on hold until you feel ready, healed, or further along? What is one way you could make room for it in your life today?
Meditation
With that, we begin our healing connection.
Embrace the journey. Keep listening. Healing knows the way.
Love and more love,
Dr. Kidi
More reflections at drkidi.com · Follow @drkidi.healing · Guided meditations on YouTube @drkidi · Short stories on Substack @drkidi
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