What Is Worthy of Your One Life?

A Call to Transition with Intention and Depth

The prospective client sat across from me, radiating confidence and clarity. He recently departed the company he spent over a decade building, leaving it in a place where it could thrive without him. “I’ve made every mistake in the book, and now I know exactly what it’ll take to build my next company.” With a hint of pride, he continued, “I’ve even mapped out four business plans, each one getting positive feedback from advisors and investors.”

As I listened, I found myself questioning if Downshift was right for him at this moment. His clarity felt brittle, like he’d sketched out the blueprint for his next chapter without examining the foundation beneath it. After all, he was just weeks into his transition. I wondered, what did he want out of this?

In one breath, he declared: “I want to use this interim period to break my remaining bad habits, to build great ones, to redouble my discipline.” His focus was on practical growth—mental models, communication, decision-making. But as he spoke, a subtle restlessness crept in, a tension, as though he were trying to leap into the future without fully acknowledging the transition he was standing in.

He paused, his confidence unshaken, a hint of skepticism creeping in. “I’m not even sure I’m ready to Downshift.” The words lingered, as though he were questioning whether this style of coaching was necessary for someone like him. “I mean, I want to grow, and I’ve got a pretty good sense of what I need to work on and where I’m heading.”

I nodded and waited, letting the silence settle between us, stretching just long enough to feel its weight. Finally, I looked at him and said, “I think you might be right.”

Then I continued, “Here’s the thing: Downshifting isn’t about stopping or slowing down just because it sounds like the ‘right’ thing to do or is in the zeitgeist. It’s about moving forward with a deeper, grounded sense of intention and purpose. For someone like you, it’s about creating the space to examine what truly matters.”

As I spoke, I felt a question stirring within me, something I hadn’t planned, something that seemed to rise up from a place beyond thought. I felt into his story—his drive, his need for control, his restlessness. I locked eyes with him, took a breath, and let the silence stretch just a beat longer. Then I asked, “What is worthy of your one life?”

He stared back at me, the confidence he exuded morphing into something else—a perplexed, almost pained look. He opened his mouth, then closed it, visibly searching for an answer. Finally, he admitted, “I don’t even know how to answer that.”

This founder was no stranger to grinding and success. He’d built a company, weathered countless failures, and come out the other side—alive and triumphant. But now, like so many high performers at a crossroads, he found himself in uncharted territory. After a decade of running through walls and making things happen, he was confronted by an unexpected question and an unsettling pause—a moment to ask what was truly worth years of his life. 

Moments of transition offer a unique opportunity to pause, to step back, and ask ourselves what truly matters. What do we really want to create for ourselves and for those we love? It’s a chance to look beyond the endless rush to fill our days, to produce, to keep up with the relentless momentum we’re taught to maintain. This is about stripping away the noise and getting clear on what’s worthy of your one precious life—and letting that clarity become your compass.

When something ends, it’s tempting to rush into the next project, to double down on productivity and hustle, reasserting control. We convince ourselves that if we’re not moving forward, we’re standing still—or worse, falling behind, getting dull, becoming irrelevant. But this is where so many high achievers go wrong. They bypass the deeper question—the one that truly deserves time, silence, and attention.

What is worthy of your one life?

This question is a call to wake up, to turn off the autopilot that so easily steers us day in and day out. It’s an invitation to break free from routine, to step back and see your life with fresh eyes. To shake the dust off dreams you’ve left on the shelf. To ask yourself if you’re truly living, or just going through the motions. To set down the success scripts handed to you long ago by parents, teachers, society—and to choose a path that’s uniquely yours.

Because one day, many years from now, if you’re lucky, you’ll look back and ask yourself, What did I truly do with this one, precious life?

This is all you have. As the poet Mary Oliver wrote, “What will you do with your one wild and precious life?” Think about that. It’s not about the zeros in your bank account, the followers, or the accolades. It’s about the moments that make you feel fully alive, the connections that nourish you, the people who matter—not the minutes slipping away as you blindly chase one achievement after another. In the end, it’s this aliveness, these connections, and this authenticity that truly define a life well lived.

It’s easy to get lost in the demands and expectations of what we think life should look like. But ask yourself: What is truly worth your presence, your energy, your finite time? Is it building a life where you’re truly present with your family, not just showing up but being fully engaged? Is it nurturing friendships that challenge and inspire you, rather than relationships that feel transactional or surface-level? Is it finding a sense of inner peace—learning to slow down, to feel contentment and joy in the here and now, instead of constantly looking to the next big win?

The point is, it’s yours to define, and it’s all you have. So don’t settle, don’t just fill the space, and don’t waste these precious years on things that don’t truly matter—relationships, activities, expressions that leave you empty. Decide what’s genuinely worthy of you—because this is it. There are no do-overs.

When I think about what makes Downshift worthy for me, a few things come to mind: service, authenticity, connection, and creative expression. These values aren’t just guiding principles—they’re the qualities that bring me alive, the elements that make me feel aligned with who I am at my core. Downshift provides a space where I can fully express these parts of myself, weaving them into work that feels deeply meaningful and impactful. This isn’t a job; it’s a calling, a pleasure, a joy. Each day, I’m guided by something deeper—a kind of clarity that cuts through the noise, grounding me in what matters most. There’s a simplicity to it, almost a purity—a feeling of being exactly where I’m meant to be, doing exactly what I’m meant to do.

In the end, isn’t that what we’re all seeking? A life that reflects our deepest values and aspirations? And maybe it’s about asking ourselves, What do we want this next phase of our lives to say about who we are and what we really care about?

This isn’t a question about which business will be most profitable or which venture will gain the most recognition. It’s not about the role that promises the biggest paycheck, the most influence, or the greatest power. It’s a call to reframe our ambitions through the lens of what we truly value, of what fills our lives with depth and meaning. It’s about aligning our outward pursuits with the fire of our inner clarity—living a life that feels aligned, alive, and unshakably true.

And perhaps, for some, having more money than you need, having influence and power, or to gain a high status in society are genuine motivators. These outer ambitions might bring short bursts of happiness, moments of validation. But too often, they leave an emptiness—a void that’s never fully satisfied. That’s why this is a call to go inside out, to root our actions in something deeper. Only then can we create lives that are not just authentically expressive on the outside but truly fulfilling on the inside.

As we wrapped up the conversation, he looked at me, his expression softening, a hint of something shifting in his gaze—a glimmer of recognition, maybe even relief. He took a breath and nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, his voice quieter, more reflective. “Maybe I need to Downshift, just for a little while, to step back...and figure out what’s really worth it.”

So, before you leap into the next venture, the next gig, the next goal, the next thing on the horizon, take a moment to ask yourself: What is truly worthy of my one life? 

And if the answer doesn’t come easily, perhaps that’s an invitation to slow down, to explore, and to begin the real work of uncovering the answer that’s yours alone.