At the end of our lives, everything we’ve built—possessions, achievements, routines—will either turn to ashes or live on as impact. Ashes fade, scattered by time. Impact endures, woven into the lives we’ve touched, the love we’ve given, the seeds we’ve planted.

Every choice we make—big or small—casts a ripple forward into the person we’re becoming. Yet most of us make decisions trapped in the urgency of today: deadlines, expectations, comfort. But when the noise fades and the years have stacked up, the voice that matters most isn’t the world’s—it’s your own, decades older, whispering back through time.

If tomorrow’s newspaper ran a story on your life, what would the headline read? “Always Busy, Rarely Present”?  “Dreams Deferred for Someday”? Or maybe “Quietly Courageous, Finally Awake”?