More Than Words, More Than Things.

If you know me well, you’ve heard me say this before. Maybe more than once.

The most precious thing you can give someone isn’t a gift, a favor, or even your words.

It’s your time.

It sounds simple. Obvious, even. But it’s easy to forget.

In a world of infinite scroll, of inboxes that never empty and calendars that never quit, the idea of giving someone your full, undivided presence? That’s become rare. Almost radical.

Everything else? You can get more of it. More money. More wine. More flowers. More likes. More followers. More stuff. But time? You only get so much. And once it’s gone, it’s gone.

That’s what makes it priceless.

I’m not talking about the performative kind of time—the “I’m here but checking my phone” kind. I’m talking about the real stuff. Time when you are fully there. Eyes up. Heart open. No agenda. No multitasking.

Because here’s the truth: Not all time is created equal.

There’s the kind of time that fills a slot in your day. And there’s the kind that fills a space in someone’s life.

Over the years, I’ve received incredible gifts. But the ones that stay with me weren’t things. They were moments.

Like the friend who drove three hours—each way—just to catch my keynote, even though he could’ve just watched the replay.

The fellow speaker who dropped everything to come hear me test a new presentation, then gave me honest, generous feedback I’ll never forget.

Or the family friend who showed up graveside, flowers in hand, no big speech—just a presence that said, “You’re not alone.”

Even the simple call from a buddy who happened to be driving nearby and thought, “I should check in.” That call turned into an hour-long lifeline I didn’t know I needed.

None of those people had to show up. But they did. And that made all the difference.

There’s the kind of time that fills a slot in your day. And there’s the kind that fills a space in someone’s life.

I’ve traveled the world—over 80 countries. And what I’ve seen, again and again, is this: In the places with the least material wealth, people seem to have the deepest reserves of time. Time for conversation. Time for meals. Time for being—together.

It made me realize… maybe we’re not actually short on time. Maybe we’re just too distracted to give it.

We all say we’re too busy. That we’ll catch up later. That we’ll make time when things slow down. That we’ll find time—when we find the time.

But here’s something else I say often: We don’t find the time. We make the time. It’s a choice. Not a discovery.

And time doesn’t pause. Later has a way of never arriving.

If you live to 80, you get around 30,000 days. That’s it. So how many of those are you really present for? Really in?

We chase success, checklists, inboxes. But in the end, the moments that matter are the ones we spend being with—not just doing for—the people who matter.

So maybe, next time you’re stressing over what to get someone for their birthday, or wondering how to support a friend who’s struggling… Forget the gift card. Skip the flowers.

Send yourself.

Even if you’re miles away—that’s okay. Don’t send the text. Or the emoji. Or the perfectly filtered photo. Pick up the phone. Call. Talk. Let them hear your voice. Feel your presence—even from afar.

And it doesn’t always need to be a birthday, a crisis, or an event.

Sometimes the best time to reach out is no reason at all. When someone crosses your mind—let them know. That fleeting memory? That passing thought? That could be the moment they needed most.

And it’s not just the people closest to you. Give your time to the stranger who held the door. The clerk behind the counter. The quiet one in the corner. Look them in the eye. Ask how they’re doing. Mean it.

A moment of your time could be the moment that reminds someone they matter.

Sit. Listen. Laugh. Be quiet together—if only for a few minutes. Give them the one thing they’ll never forget—your time.

And maybe—just maybe—it’s time we stop saying, “I’ll do it when I have the time…” And start saying, “I’ll make the time.”

Because that’s the only way it happens.

So let me ask you:

Who in your life needs a little more of your time—right now?