Why Is ‘Later’ Always the Plan?
Stop waiting for the wife and kids
It’s Sunday afternoon. I am on a call that’s about to end, the last of several conversations with a gentleman who has spent years working in a field I wanted to learn more about. It was one of those interactions where you leave feeling grateful because someone else’s experience has just saved you through trial and error.
You know how we all say the most random things when we’re wrapping up a call? As we were about to hang up, he said something in Ga that caught me completely off guard.
“Regards to the wife and kids.”
I had to pause for a second. I wasn’t expecting that one.
What exactly was I supposed to say? Correct him? Explain that I wasn’t married and didn’t have children? No Sir!
So I simply laughed and replied, “Yooo, makɛɛ amɛ.” I’ll pass on the message.
The call ended, and I couldn’t stop smiling. Apparently, I give off responsible family man energy. I’ll gladly take that compliment.
But what has surprised me isn’t what he said. It is how his comment has been on my mind since Sunday. If not I wouldn’t write about it.
For years, I’ve casually told people that I’ll pursue my PhD once I get married. It has become one of those statements I’ve repeated so often that I’ve never stopped to question it. Somewhere in my mind, marriage and a PhD became part of the same chapter of my life. I imagined myself balancing research and family life, and all the beautiful chaos that comes with it.
Looking back, I can’t tell you when I first created that story. I only know I’ve believed it for a long time.
So when this gentleman unknowingly sent his regards to my imaginary wife and children, it made me laugh. Then it made me think. We all do a version of this. How many parts of our lives have we quietly postponed because of an imaginary timeline?
The more I reflected, the more I realised that I have been making what I call if-then decisions:
If I get married, then I’ll pursue my PhD.
If I move abroad, then I’ll become more disciplined about my health.
If I earn more money, then I’ll finally start investing.
If work becomes less demanding, then I’ll spend more time with the people I care about.
The interesting thing is that psychology has something to say about this. Dr. Peter Gollwitzer popularised the idea of implementation intentions, a technique that has helped millions of people bridge the gap between good intentions and consistent action. The principle is surprisingly simple, instead of vaguely hoping to do something, you decide in advance what action you will take when a specific situation arises. For example:
“If I finish my morning coffee, then I’ll write for twenty minutes.”
“If it’s 6 p.m. on Tuesday, then I’ll go for a run.”
“If I feel tempted to check my phone while working, then I’ll take three deep breaths and continue.”
The beauty of implementation intentions is that they reduce the need for motivation. The decision has already been made. When the cue appears, you act.
But somewhere along the way, many of us, including me, have twisted this powerful idea into something it was never meant to be. Instead of connecting today’s actions to today’s cues, we’ve connected tomorrow’s dreams to tomorrow’s milestones. We’ve replaced practical triggers with life events:
“If I get married…”
“If I relocate…”
“If I finally have enough money…”
“If life settles down…”
Those statements sound like plans, but many of them are simply elegant forms of procrastination. Moving countries won’t suddenly make me disciplined. A promotion won’t transform me into someone who reads every day. Those events may change my circumstances, but they won’t automatically change my character.
Momentum has a funny way of creating motivation. Action often produces clarity. Rarely is it the other way around.
There’s a quote that has surprisingly become popular in the last couple of months: “A moving person will one day meet their luck. The road favours the traveller.”
I hate that everyone is quoting it and I have to use it here, but I love that image because it reminds me that opportunities tend to find people who are already moving.
Perhaps that’s the lesson I needed from an innocent farewell on a Sunday afternoon.
Maybe we don’t need a different country before I become disciplined.
Maybe the life we are waiting for isn’t what’s holding us back.
Maybe I don’t need a wife before I start preparing for a PhD.
Maybe it’s just the story we’ve told ourselves about when we’re finally allowed to begin.
So here’s the question I’ve been asking myself lately, and perhaps it’s one worth asking yourself too:
What have you attached to a future milestone that you could begin preparing for today?
