Have you ever had the feeling that your life is like those movie trailers that promise the blockbuster of the century… but you’ve been watching commercials for forty years? Raise your hand if you’re waiting for “the definitive moment” to finally start living. Relax, don’t push, there’s room for everyone!

We live immersed in the fascinating and exhausting Life on Pause Syndrome . A state of mind where we firmly believe that real life—the one where you finally smile in technicolor, have inner peace, a healthy bank account, and always have matching socks—will begin later . After passing the civil service exam, after the kids stop wearing diapers (and start university, which is when the real drama begins), after inflation comes down, or simply… next Monday.

But, mind you, while we wait for the main show to begin, life slips by in our ambitious attempt to buy popcorn. And of course, the Lord, who looks down on us from Heaven with Franciscan patience and a wry smile, must be thinking: “My child, I’ve given you a first-class ticket for the train of the present, and you’ve insisted on traveling on the platform waiting for the express train of your fantasies to pass by . “

The big trap: What if the dress rehearsal was the play?

Saint Josemaría Escrivá de Balaguer, with that spark of holy good humor that so characterized him, insisted that holiness isn’t for Martians or swashbuckling heroes, but is forged in the kitchen, washing dishes, answering emails with a poker face, or putting up with your brother-in-law on Christmas Eve. Quite something!

However, we prefer to postpone gratitude. We think that being happy consists of accumulating future triumphs. “When I have more time, I’ll be more patient ,” we tell ourselves. What a load of rubbish. Someone who isn’t patient waiting in line at the supermarket won’t be patient when they’re retired on a paradise beach; they’ll simply complain that the sand is too hot.

The trap lies in believing that God dwells only in grand cathedrals or in moments of spiritual ecstasy. We forget that the Word became flesh, that is, plunged headlong into the everyday. Jesus didn’t spend his childhood waiting to turn thirty to start “doing important things”; he redeemed the world while nailing wooden planks and sweeping sawdust in the workshop in Nazareth. What a divine pension plan!

Express self-examination (With coffee and without anesthesia)

Before reading on, and to avoid the embarrassment of it all, take a second to answer yourself (no cheating, God sees your browsing history):

1. How many times this week have you said “when I have time…” as an excuse not to enjoy what’s in front of you? (It’s okay to fail, but not to pretend).
2. If your Guardian Angel had to summarize your day yesterday, would he say that you lived like someone grateful for today’s gift, or like a customs inspector waiting for tomorrow’s shipment to arrive?
3. Does ordinary holiness bore you so much that you’d rather dream of being a martyr in the Roman circus than put up with a smile from an office colleague who smells like reheated coffee?

The sanctity of coffee with milk and the red light

Authentic Catholic spirituality is firmly rooted in reality. It’s not a cheap self-help manual that encourages you to “go with the flow,” but a vibrant call to love reality as it is, with its leaks, its bills, and its Monday mornings.

The present is the only place where God awaits us. Not in the past (which is already forgiven) nor in the future (which belongs to infinite divine providence and meteorologists). If we continue waiting for perfect circumstances to begin living with gratitude, we will end up like the man who waited for the river to run dry before crossing: dry, bored, and with spotless shoes, but without having reached the other side.

So, dear reader, close your eyes for a moment to the pressure of “I have to get everything done,” take a deep breath, and give thanks for this very moment. Yes, this very moment in which you are reading this, perhaps with cold coffee and a slight backache. God is there, lurking amidst the routine, waiting for you to say to Him: “Lord, I don’t quite know what to do with this day, but I promise to live it fully, without pauses or subtitles, because it’s the only one you’ve given me . “

Ultimately, eternity is just an endless Tuesday… but with better company. Let’s live life to the fullest, because the Kingdom of Heaven wasn’t opened for bored spectators!