What Version of You Have You Been Postponing for Someday?

"I am right on time for this version of my life."

There Is No Better Life Waiting

Your everyday routine is your life.

Not the life you fantasize about, not the one you keep pushing into some distant future where all conditions are ideal—no. The one you live now. The one with packed matatus, deadlines, Nairobi traffic, laughter in the kitchen, and evenings where nothing goes as planned. That’s the real one.

The lie we are sold—on billboards, in pulpits, by motivational speakers, and even in well-meaning family advice—is that there is a better version of you that you will arrive at someday. That you must endure now so you can enjoy later. That you must hustle, sacrifice, dim yourself, and delay joy until you’ve earned it.

But what if there is no shiny, perfect version waiting at the end of your journey? What if you are not here to become someone else—but to become more of yourself?

Who Is This "Better Version" of You Anyway?

This version we keep postponing—who defined them? Was it your parents’ unspoken hopes? Your church? Your peers? Your social media algorithm that keeps showing you people who seem to have figured it out?

Maybe this ideal self—the richer, thinner, married, healed, successful you—is a collage made up of every pressure you’ve absorbed but never questioned. Maybe that person doesn't exist.

In Kenya, we glorify perseverance. We postpone joy because we’re always preparing for disaster. We learn early that rest must be earned. That dreams must be shelved for duty. That if you choose yourself too loudly, you're selfish or unserious.

Here’s how we do it:

We stay in soul-crushing jobs because “hii ni kazi ya serikali.”
We ignore mental health because “ni stress tu, itaisha.”
We raise children while forgetting to raise ourselves.
We shrink in marriages, workplaces, churches—places where we’re meant to expand.
We convince ourselves that our passions can wait. That our soft selves can wait. That our true selves can wait.

But for how long?

This Is It. This Is Your Life.

You will not wake up one day and become someone else. You will not magically find more time, more energy, more certainty.

Your life is happening now—in your choices, your conversations, your silences, your routines. And because that’s true, how you go about your routine matters.

Do you wake up with dread or with intention? Do you allow joy to visit your day, even briefly? Do you notice beauty, even in ordinary things? Do you ask questions of your spirit, not just your salary?

Because your life isn't waiting for you. It's unfolding with or without your permission.

Maybe It’s Not About Becoming Better

Maybe it’s about becoming more honest. More present. More you.

Maybe this life isn’t about self-improvement as much as it is about soul-remembering. Maybe every heartbreak, illness, rejection, slow day and moment of joy is shaping the version of you that’s meant to live beyond this world.

Because one day, the body will die. But your spirit? That goes on.

What if all this—this traffic, this routine, this joy, this pain—is practice for the next life? What if you’re already building the next version of yourself right here?

Are you spiritually rich—or are you broke but looking successful? Are you nurturing your soul—or only your CV?

Because the spirit doesn’t care for your accolades, your degrees, your awards. It remembers how you loved, how you showed up, how you healed, how you forgave, how you listened to its quiet voice while the world screamed at you to hustle harder.

Questions Worth Asking

What version of myself have I been putting off for “someday”?
Who told me who I need to become—and do I still agree with them?
What would it look like to live as though my spirit mattered more than my status?
Am I spiritually bankrupt—or have I been slowly building a quiet wealth no one can see?
What would happen if I gave myself permission to begin again—here, now, as I am?

Final Thoughts

This is your one wild, beautiful, complicated life. Stop waiting for conditions to be perfect. Stop postponing yourself. Stop outsourcing your becoming.

You are not behind. You are not too old. You are not too late.

You are right on time for this version of your life.

Daniel Arap Moi — The Shadow and the Shepherd: A Deep Dive into Kenya’s Second President

If Jomo Kenyatta was the founding father, Daniel Toroitich Arap Moi was the long-reigning stepfather — sometimes protective, often punitive, and almost always enigmatic. He ruled Kenya for 24 years, the longest of any president to date. To some, he was the gentle teacher, Mwalimu , who kept the nation from tearing apart. To others, he was the architect of a surveillance state, a master of patronage and fear, the man who perfected repression through calm. This is a portrait of Daniel Arap Moi — not just as a ruler, but as a man shaped by modest beginnings, colonial violence, and the hunger for order in a chaotic time. Early Life: The Boy from Sacho Daniel Arap Moi was born on September 2, 1924, in Kurieng’wo, Baringo, in Kenya’s Rift Valley. He came from the Tugen sub-group of the Kalenjin community. His father died when he was just four. Raised by his uncle, Moi’s early life was marked by hardship, discipline, and deep Christian missionary influence. He trained as a teacher at Tambach ...

Not All Disabilities Are Visible

Some pain does not leave a mark. Some exhaustion does not show in the face. Some people are carrying weights that have no name, no diagnosis, and no outward sign. We are used to recognizing suffering only when it can be pointed to — a bandage, a crutch, a cast, a wound. Something we can see. But the human interior is its own world, and often, the heaviest struggles live there. The Quiet Work of Holding Yourself Together There are those who walk into a room smiling, contributing, present — and yet they are holding themselves together one breath at a time. Not because they are pretending, but because they have learned to live with what would overwhelm another person. Some battles are fought inside the mind: The slow grey of depression The relentless hum of anxiety The sudden, unbidden memory that takes the body back to a place it never wants to return The deep fatigue that sleep does not cure And yet, life continues. The world moves. The dishes still need to be wa...

Know Thyself: The Quiet Power of Naming Your Nature

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” — Carl Jung We live in a culture that equates good intentions with goodness, and ambition with ability. But very few people in Kenya—or anywhere—truly know what they are made of. We can name our qualifications and our dreams. But ask someone their vices or virtues, and they hesitate. Worse, they lie. The Danger of Self-Unawareness In Kenya today, many of us are wandering through life making choices—big, small, and irreversible—without truly understanding who we are. We end up in jobs we despise, relationships we shouldn’t be in, or positions of influence we aren’t emotionally or ethically equipped for. And at the root of this dysfunction is a simple truth: we don’t know ourselves. This is not a spiritual or abstract dilemma. It’s a deeply practical one. To know oneself is to understand your vices, your virtues, your weaknesses, and your strengths—not in a vague sense, but in detail. Let’s ge...

KenyaOnAShoeString

Search This Blog