What a Stranger's Words Taught Me About Life, Death and Time

Every time I grab a coffee, I’m reminded of a chance encounter that forever changed how I see life, death, and everything in between.

It happened at a personal development event with over a thousand attendees. I was in line, waiting for my coffee, when the woman ahead of me turned around. She had a distinctive hairstyle - all her hair swept elegantly to one side.

She smiled warmly, arms outstretched, and greeted me with an enthusiastic, ‘Hey!’

I froze.

Back then, I was the guy who had convinced himself small talk was painful and socialising wasn’t ‘my thing.’ I glanced behind me, sure she was greeting someone else. But no, her smile was meant for me.

Awkwardly, I stepped into her hug, feeling like an imposter in this unexpected moment of connection.

‘How’s life?’ she asked, her eyes genuinely curious.

‘Good,’ I lied quickly. It wasn’t good. I was attending those events to escape the mess my life had become, but admitting that to a stranger? Not a chance.

We chatted briefly, and then I asked about her life. She paused, her expression softening. Then, brushing her hair aside, she revealed a long surgical scar I hadn’t noticed before.

‘Life’s amazing, you know…’ she said, her voice steady but full of meaning. ‘I don’t normally share this, but doctors have told me I’ve got about eight months left. But hey...’ - her smile never wavered - ‘...it’s not the days in your life but the life in those days that matters, right?’

Before I could process what she’d said, her friend called her to another queue. She waved goodbye, leaving me standing there, wondering what had just happened. There I was, drowning in self-pity, while this woman - literally counting her remaining days - radiated more joy than anyone else in that packed hall.

That moment changed everything. Life, I realised, is like an invisible journal. Each morning, we wake up to a fresh page, waiting to be filled. Some of us get more pages than others, but none of us knows which page will be our last. The only thing that matters is what we choose to write today.

You can’t edit yesterday’s entries or peek at tomorrow’s blank pages. Time doesn’t pause for our regrets or wait for us to feel ready. All we have is this moment, this page, right now.

When I catch myself putting off joy or drowning in minor frustrations, I remember her smile, her scar, her wisdom. It becomes impossible to waste the present when you realise every moment is precious - not in some vague, inspirational-quote way, but in the raw, real way.

If you’re ready to reconnect with the present - to fill today’s page with intention and joy - try ALYV’s 5-minute music-only sessions. They’re a simple way to start living fully, right now.