You’re not lacking time. You’re lacking truth.
We’ve all said it—*“I don’t have time.”* For the things we say we care about. For the things we secretly long for. For rest. For art. For love. For change. It’s the most common reason we give to others—and to ourselves—when something gets pushed aside again.
But what if the real issue isn’t time at all?
What if what we’re really missing is truth?
Time is the easy scapegoat. It gives us a way out without touching the discomfort beneath. We live in a world that spins fast and expects more. So it’s convincing to believe the problem is just the clock. But often, that isn’t what’s holding us back. What we’re avoiding isn’t a full schedule—it’s an honest look at what we’re choosing, and more importantly, what we’re not.
When someone says they don’t have time to exercise, what they often mean is they don’t yet value it enough to make space. When we say we don’t have time to sit with ourselves, to reflect, to reconnect with what matters—we’re really saying we’re afraid of what we’ll find if we stop. The truth is inconvenient. It asks things of us. And it’s far easier to blame the hours than to admit what we’ve been unwilling to face.
This isn’t about guilt. It’s about clarity.
Time is neutral. But truth—that’s a force. It cuts through noise. It doesn’t argue with the calendar or beg for permission. When we meet truth, even for a moment, time bends. What once felt heavy becomes light. Priorities sharpen. Distractions fade. Because now we’re not just reacting to life, we’re responding from something deeper.
Think of a lantern in a dark room. Before it’s lit, everything feels cluttered. Hard to navigate. You bump into furniture, fumble around, wonder why things feel so tight. But the moment the lantern’s on, you see the space differently. It didn’t grow. It just became visible. That’s what truth does. It doesn’t give you more hours. It gives you vision. And that changes everything.
Imagine someone who’s always wanted to write. They tell themselves there’s no time. Days slip by, filled with tasks. But deep down, they’re scared. Scared of being bad at it. Scared of what the writing might reveal. So the easier story becomes: “Life is just too full right now.” But one day, they stop running. They admit the fear. They stop pretending. And suddenly, something shifts. They wake earlier. They protect one hour a day like it's sacred. Not because they found extra time—but because they found their truth.
It’s not about being more productive. It’s about being more real.
And here’s the paradox: when you stop avoiding truth, you often find you *do* have the time. You were just spending it upholding a lie. The lie that you need to do everything. The lie that your worth is tied to being constantly busy. The lie that there’s no space for what calls you.
Truth frees you. Not just spiritually—but practically. It rearranges your life from the inside out. You don’t need to chase time. You need to clear the fog.
We often wait for life to slow down before we listen. But maybe we need to listen so life *can* slow down. Truth is not something that requires perfect conditions. It simply asks for your attention. And once you give it, the illusion of “no time” starts to crumble.
So next time you find yourself saying, “I don’t have time,” pause. Not to force yourself into action, but to gently ask: *What’s the truth I haven’t been willing to face?*
You’re not lacking time. You’re lacking truth.
And the moment you see it clearly, a new kind of time opens—one where what matters most finally has room to breathe.
Chief Editor
Tal Gur is an author, founder, and impact-driven entrepreneur at heart. After trading his daily grind for a life of his own daring design, he spent a decade pursuing 100 major life goals around the globe. His journey and most recent book, The Art of Fully Living, has led him to found Elevate Society.
