Sitting alone, contemplating how life has and is treating me, I remembered an old story. A person facing what we often call a “midlife crisis” went to a monk. He complained about all the decisions he felt he had failed to take, about how miserable his life had become. He wished he could wake up at 22 and start all over.
The perspective the monk offered made a huge impact on me.
He said:
"If you’re 41 and feeling sad that you can’t wake up as a 22-year-old again, try this instead."
Close your eyes. Take a few deep breaths. Feel your lungs expand, feel the air entering your nose. Now, imagine — just for a few moments — that you are 85.
Feel the weight of those years — the slower body, the absence of people you once loved, the conversations you never had, the apologies you never made, the love you didn’t express enough. Let the regrets rise: the chances you didn’t take, the relationships you let fade, the moments you were too distracted to notice.
Sit with that version of yourself for a while — you will soon feel the 85-year-old you wishing for one more ordinary day at 41.
And then, in this little thought experiment, you go to sleep with all those feelings.
Then you wake up… you are 41 again.
Not older.
Not drained.
Not running out of time.
You suddenly, miraculously, have the next 44 years back in your hands- maybe little less, or little more.
So you ask yourself:
What would I do differently?
What would matter more?
Whom would I call?
What would I finally stop postponing?
The monk’s point was simple:
You may never be 22 again, but you can absolutely be someone your 85-year-old self would be grateful for.
We keep longing for a second chance — without realizing we already have one.
It just begins at 41, not at 22.
