Make a list of everything you’ve been saving for later—the expensive wine you’re waiting for the right occasion to open, the music studio you plan to build, the concert tickets you keep postponing, the trip you’ll take “when you have time,” the book you’ll write “when you’re ready,” the person you’ll call “when things settle down.” Realize that “someday” is a lie you tell yourself to avoid living now.

Over the course of one month, systematically liquidate your “someday” list. Open the wine on a Tuesday and invite a stranger to share it. Go to the concert you’ve delayed and sit front and center. Book the trip immediately, even if it’s inconvenient. Start writing the book badly, right now, without preparation. Call the person today. Give away the things you’ve been hoarding for a future that may never come. The practice isn’t about recklessness—it’s about recognizing that saving experiences for later is just another way of refusing to be alive.

“Someday” is where dreams go to die. By liquidating your saved experiences, you’re proving to yourself that you don’t need permission, perfect conditions, or the right moment to live fully. The practice teaches that presence isn’t something you achieve when everything aligns—it’s something you claim by refusing to wait for a future that’s always one day away.