Loss Reminds Me to Live Honestly

Well, nothing this month went as planned. The original idea was to have a relaxed month—take some day trips along the Amalfi Coast, and hop on a few short-haul flights around Europe before settling down in my own home.

But early this month, on a quiet night, my partner’s papa felt unwell and needed a major, urgent operation. It’s hard to forget the intense silence of that night—rushing him to the hospital along the winding Amalfi coastal road, followed by daily visits while he recovered. Thankfully, he pulled through and is now recovering at home.

In the midst of all this, I got the heartbreaking news that a dear uncle of mine had passed away in Hong Kong. Despite the generational gap, he was the kind of uncle who truly listened. He supported me, even when he didn’t fully understand or agree with my choices. He loved me unconditionally. When I heard the news, I was overwhelmed with regret—regret that we never got to share the lunch we had promised each other. He was a rare gem, and now he lives on in my heart forever.

Moments like these—sudden illness, unexpected loss—have a way of stopping everything. They force me to pause and ask:

How much time do I really have on this planet?

Am I living the honest, full life I’m meant to live while I still can?

No one knows the answer to the first question. I just pray and hope for more healthy years ahead. But the second one — that is something I can influence. That’s something I work on every day: living my life to the fullest, in the most authentic way possible.

Someone once asked me a powerful question:

“How do you know if you’re living a life that’s true to yourself?”

For me, it comes down to observing my own thoughts, emotions, and behaviors. When all three align, I know I’m on the right path. Over time, I’ve developed a simple system to check in with myself—especially when I’m facing big decisions or feeling disconnected.

Here are the three things I do:

1. Ask: Would I do it if no one ever knew?

Would I still write this monthly blog post if no one ever read it? Yes, I would—and that’s why you are (or aren’t) reading this.

Here’s another version of the same question: Would I have stayed in my old tech job if I were on a deserted island?

At the beginning, yes—I was learning so much and felt energized. But later, when I hit the glass ceiling, the answer changed. I stayed because my parents were proud of having a daughter at a Fortune 500 company. I stayed to grow the business, to lead a bigger team. In the end, I stayed for my ego—not for me.

This simple yet powerful question always brings me back to my truth.

2. Walk in nature

For me, walking in nature—ideally in a forest, but really, anywhere with trees—helps untangle what I’m feeling. I carry the question or decision with me as I walk. Eventually, my body softens, and I begin to understand how I truly feel beneath the surface.

There’s something about movement that connects my thoughts and emotions in a way sitting still never can.

3. Journal like I’m my own best friend

I journal as if I’m writing to someone who loves me unconditionally. And I don’t type—I write by hand, either on paper or digitally with my Apple Pencil. That way, I can doodle, cross things out, make it messy if it needs to be.

There’s power in crossing something off that a back button cannot replicate — especially when I’m rejecting an idea rooted in fear or old trauma. Of the three tools, this one is the most revealing and powerful. But it’s also the most vulnerable, so I only journal when I have ample, uninterrupted time—not on a fixed schedule, but when I can really sit with myself.

This month reminded me—through a loved one’s struggle and another’s passing—that our time here is both precious and finite. We don’t get to live forever. We don’t have endless chances to realign with what truly matters.

That’s why I come back to this simple system again and again. And if you’re reading this, maybe you’re ready to try it too. Start with that first question:

Would you do it if no one ever knew?

Start small—maybe with a creative project you’ve been putting off, or a decision that’s been weighing on you. Ask yourself, quietly and honestly. You might be surprised by the answer. Or maybe, deep down, you already know it—you just needed a moment of courage to face it.

Because in the end, the only approval that truly matters is your own and especially your future self. And I think my uncle would’ve been proud of me for remembering that.

With Love, Vienna