What Would You Do If You Had More Time?

We’ve all said it: “If only I had more time.” More time to chase dreams, to finish projects, to tell the people we love how much they mean to us. Time feels like the one resource we can never control—and the one we always wish we had more of.

That question—what would you do if you had more time?—sits at the heart of my novel, Borrowed Time. It’s a story rooted in the raw reality of illness, kidney failure, and the fragile hope of a transplant. For the characters, time isn’t abstract. It’s measured in dialysis hours, in days waiting for a phone call that could change everything, in the relentless countdown of a body that refuses to wait.

But the story isn’t just about survival. It’s about choices. What do you hold onto when the clock is against you? Do you cling tighter to routine, or do you risk everything for the moments that matter? Do you keep waiting for the future—or do you make peace with the present?

Writing Borrowed Time made me reflect on my own life. I began to notice the places where I was living as if time was infinite—postponing joy, shelving dreams, delaying words of love and forgiveness. But when you’re face-to-face with the truth that time is never guaranteed, procrastination loses its comfort. Urgency replaces it—not the frantic kind, but the kind that reminds you to live deliberately.

Here’s the paradox: when we accept that time is limited, life expands. Every small joy becomes meaningful. Every connection deepens. Every day matters, because every day is a gift we don’t get back.

So I’ll ask you again: What would you do if you had more time? Maybe the better question is—what will you do with the time you already have?