LIVE THE STORY YOU WANT TO TELL

I came across a quote this week that stopped me mid-scroll.

It was from Vinh Giang, talking about his lessons from 2025:

"Live the story you want to tell."

Five words. But they sat with me.

Because here is the uncomfortable truth: If I had to tell the story of my life right now, it would be remarkably short. And remarkably repetitive.

Wake up. Work. Home. Routine. Repeat.

Not bad. Not broken. Just... flat.

And flat does not make for good stories.

The Quote That Shaped How I Used to Live

Years ago, I stumbled on another quote. One that became my mantra for a season of life.

Jim Rohn said: "Life is not just the passing of time. Life is the collection of experiences and their intensity."

That quote changed me.

It made me realize: I was not collecting experiences. I was just passing time.

So I started deliberately creating moments.

I went skydiving. Not because I needed to prove anything. But because I wanted the experience. The story.

I organized a gorge swing. Terrifying. Exhilarating. Unforgettable.

I pushed for team-building events at work—not the boring corporate kind, but actual adventures that people still talk about years later.

I helped plan family gatherings that were not just obligations but genuine celebrations.

I visited places I had only read about. Tried things I had only imagined.

And looking back now, those were some of the most memorable moments of that season.

Not the days that went according to plan. The days that interrupted the plan.

When the Monotony Crept Back In

But somewhere along the way, I stopped.

Life got busy. Work demanded more. Responsibilities piled up. Family required attention.

And slowly, quietly, I stopped creating experiences and started managing routines.

The quote faded. The intentionality disappeared.

And I settled into a rhythm that felt safe. Predictable. Manageable.

But not memorable.

Here is what I have been noticing lately: My weeks blur together.

Ask me what happened last Tuesday, and I would struggle to tell you anything specific.

Not because it was a bad day. But because it was the same as the Tuesday before it. And the one before that.

I was living. But I was not collecting.

When the Universe Emphasizes

Then I heard Vinh Giang say: "Live the story you want to tell."

And something clicked. Or rather, re-clicked.

It was not a new idea. I had heard versions of it before. I had even lived by it once.

But quotes have this way of finding you when you need them most.

This is the power of words—whether from books, videos, or even day-to-day conversations. They make the familiar urgent. They turn the vague into actionable.

And this quote did exactly that.

It made me ask: What story am I living right now? And is it one I would want to tell?

The honest answer? It is not bad. But it could be richer.

My life is not broken. But it has become predictable. Comfortable. Safe.

And safe does not always make for compelling stories.

The Challenge I Am Setting for Myself

Seth Godin once asked a question that haunts people who hear it:

"When was the last time you did something for the first time?"

Simple question. Uncomfortable answer.

Because if you are like me, the answer is: "I cannot remember."

Not because I lack opportunity. But because I have been choosing comfort over curiosity.

So here is what I am challenging myself to do this year:

Do things for the first time. Regularly.

And I want to be clear: This does not have to be dramatic.

It does not mean quitting my job to travel the world. Or spending money I do not have. Or upending my entire life.

It just means breaking the default.

What "First Times" Actually Look Like

Here is what I mean:

At home:

• Instead of the same restaurant my wife and I always go to, try a new place. Even if it is just a different spot in town.
• Cook a meal we have never attempted before. Maybe it fails. Maybe it becomes a new favourite. Either way, it is a story.
• Plan a weekend activity we have never done. Not someday. This month.

At work:

• Instead of approaching a problem the way I always do, try a completely different method. Even if it feels awkward at first.
• Have a conversation with a colleague I have never really spoken to beyond the usual greetings.
• Propose an idea I have been sitting on, rather than waiting for the "right time."

With my platforms:

• I have been using the same blog hosting platform for years. What if I explored upgrading to something better? Not because the current one is broken. But because trying something new might unlock capabilities I did not know I needed.
• I have been seeing more people share through video lately. What if I experimented with that format? Not to abandon writing. But to try a different way of telling the same stories.

With opportunities:

• Just this week, a colleague called about a couples retreat over the Easter holiday. A boat trip on the lake. Time away with other couples.

Old me? I would have said: "Sounds great. Maybe next time."

This time? My wife and I did not hesitate. We are going.

Not because it is convenient. But because if I do not say yes to experiences now, "next time" never comes.

It Does Not Have to Be Big

Here is what I want to make clear:

Living the story you want to tell does not require grand gestures.

You do not need to skydive (though if you want to, do it).

You do not need to spend money you do not have.

You do not need to break your entire routine.

You just need to find small ways to do something for the first time.

Within your family routine:

• Play a game you have never played with your kids
• Ask your spouse a question you have never asked
• Cook together instead of one person always cooking

Within your work routine:

• Take a different route to the office
• Suggest a new way to run a meeting
• Learn one new skill relevant to your role

Within your own habits:

• Read a book from a genre you normally avoid
• Try a hobby you have been curious about but dismissed as "not for me"
• Wake up 30 minutes earlier and use that time differently

Small. Doable. But different.

And difference creates stories.

The Year I Want to Tell About

The year has just started.

Twelve months ahead. Fifty-two weeks. Three hundred and sixty-five days.

Most of those days will be routine. That is fine. That is life.

But what if I deliberately made some of them different?

Not all of them. Just enough.

Enough that when December comes, I can look back and say:

"This was the year I tried new things. The year I created experiences. The year I lived stories worth telling."

Not because every moment was extraordinary.

But because I was intentional about collecting moments that mattered.

The Invitation

So here is what I am asking—of myself, and of you:

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

If you cannot remember, that is your answer.

This year, live the story you want to tell.

Not someday. Not when life slows down. Not when you have more time or money or energy.

This year.

Start small. Try one new thing this month.

Then do it again next month.

And by the end of the year, you will have twelve new experiences. Twelve new stories. Twelve moments that were not just routine.

Because life is not just the passing of time.

Life is the collection of experiences and their intensity.

And the only way to collect them is to go out and create them. 

---

When was the last time you did something for the first time? If you have to think too hard, that is your answer. This month, create one new experience. Just one. That is how stories begin.