5-6 mins

One of our good friends gave us a super cool wedding gift back in the day—a wooden plank engraved with a quote and a photo of my wife and me dancing at an earlier event. The words read:  “Live like a dancer. When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It’s to enjoy each step along the way.”

That gift has been on our floating shelf ever since, and it will always hold a special place in our hearts. It’s a powerful reminder that with dance, the dancing itself is the goal. No one’s worried about arriving anywhere—it’s all about being in the moment.

Writing about this cliché topic feels like one of those moments where my friends would say, “practice what you preach.” Why? Because it’s a lesson I’m still learning myself, and one I’ve yet to master.

Recently, I connected with a colleague who’s deeply passionate about cycling. The extreme distances he covers made me pause and wonder what fuels that kind of commitment. Out of curiosity, I asked him what keeps him going during those endless hours on the bike. Is it the joy of the journey—or, like me—is he simply counting down the minutes (or in his case, hours) until he crosses the finish line?

His answer struck a chord and has stayed with me ever since: he genuinely enjoys the time spent cycling more than crossing the finish line. That perspective got me thinking—what if I embraced that mindset in my own life? Would I find life more fulfilling if I focused on the process rather than the outcomes?

It’s a powerful question, especially when so many of us are constantly chasing something—our next promotion, adventure, milestone—so much so that we forget to live in the here and now. Naval Ravikant captured this beautifully when he said: “We crave experiences that will make us be more present, but the cravings themselves take us from the present moment.”

Honestly, I’ve lost track of how often I’ve delayed personal happiness until I’ve achieved something I deemed noteworthy—earning a degree, climbing the corporate ladder, getting married, or starting a family. In doing so, I’ve sacrificed the gift of the present (which is certain) for a future that might never unfold the way I expect (completely out of my control).

One memory that sticks with me is when my wife and I were building furniture for our unborn daughter. It could’ve been a beautiful moment—something fun we were doing together, preparing for her arrival. But I rushed through it. Got impatient. I was so focused on getting it done that I didn’t stop to enjoy it. Looking back, I hate that I let that slip by. It was a chance to be present, and I didn’t take it.

Robin Sharma, in The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, captures this predicament perfectly: “One of the most tragic things that any one of us can do is to put off living. Too many people are dreaming of some magical rose garden on the horizon rather than enjoying the one growing in our backyards.”

Even high-achieving athletes echo this mindset. Kobe Bryant, in one of his most memorable speeches, shared:

“Those times when you get up early and you work hard. Those times when you stay up late and you work hard. Those times when you don’t feel like working, you’re too tired, you don’t want to push yourself—but you do it anyway. That is actually the dream. It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.”

In the business world, this philosophy resonates too. Marc Randolph, co-founder and first CEO of Netflix, shared a similar outlook in That Will Never Work: “Working, for me, was never about getting rich—it was about the thrill of doing good work, the pleasure of solving problems…”

I’ve heard many variations of this truth, and I can tell you—it’s easier said than done. What resonates most when I look at highly successful people is how deeply they value the process. Yes, they appreciate the outcome, but they don’t let it define them. The reward lies in growth, discipline, and simply showing up.

Robin Sharma echoes this in Who Will Cry When You Die: “The real value of setting and achieving goals lies not in the rewards you receive but in the person you become as a result of reaching your goals. You have built self-discipline, discovered new things about your abilities, and manifested more of your human potential. These are rewards in and of themselves.”

From my own experience, viewing life as a mountain to climb—a peak to reach—is risky. What if health or circumstances never allow you to reach the summit? Does that make the journey worthless? Absolutely not.

Yet we live in a society where people are often judged by the heights they’ve reached. No wonder we fall into that trap. In Hidden Potential, Adam Grant encourages us to shift our perspective: “Consider how steep their slope was, how far they’ve climbed, and how they’ve grown along the way.”

It’s a powerful reminder, but again—easier said than done. As humans, we often fixate on how far we still have to go, rather than appreciating how far we’ve already come. Phil Knight touches on this in Shoe Dog, reflecting on a moment just before burnout—not because he hadn’t achieved enough, but because he was consumed by the next milestone and lost sight of the progress he’d made.

So how can we embrace the current and take it all in? How can we enjoy the journey, not just the destination?

Maybe it starts with realizing that most of our happiness and growth happens while we’re still climbing—before we ever reach the top. Life is certainly not a straight line, but a series of dots, and these moments represent the here and now.

When we stop living in the past or obsessing over the future, we begin to notice the small things: birds chirping, stars overhead, quiet moments that ask for nothing but our attention. These aren’t just passing details—they’re the parts of life we’ll look back on and wish we’d appreciated more.

One line from The Alchemist has stayed with me over the years: the present moment holds the key. If we give it our full attention, we can improve it—and in doing so, we set ourselves up for a better future. The book reminds us the future can’t be forced; it belongs to God…

I don’t have it all figured out—and maybe that’s okay. These days, I’m learning to slow down, be more present, and find meaning in the steps I’m taking right now. Because if the journey really is the dream, I want to be awake for it.

And what better way to stay awake than with coffee? Bear with me…

My wife and I are both coffee enthusiasts—and if I may say so myself, we (okay, I) make some of the best cups from our home. But like many others, we often let the busyness of life steal from the moment. More often than not, we finish our coffee while distracted—scrolling, working, or already sprinting toward the next thing.

So a while back, we gave ourselves a challenge: what if we started keeping track of how many quality coffees we enjoyed each week? Not just the cups we drank, but the moments we truly savored—when we sat down, slowed down, and let ourselves be fully immersed in the experience.

Practically, that means carving out time in my busy schedule, setting aside distractions, and deliberately slowing down—even if only for 5 to 10 minutes a day. In those brief moments of peace and quiet, I can pause, breathe, gather my thoughts, and reflect on how far I’ve come in this journey.

And strangely enough, just the act of measuring these moments has made us more protective of them. It’s helped us be a little more selfish with our time—in the best way possible.