If every year is a marble, how many marbles do you have left? How

Host: The morning mist rolled over the hills, shrouding everything in a delicate, ethereal veil. Sunlight began to filter through the trees, casting soft patterns of light across the forest floor. Jack stood by the window, gazing out at the world as it slowly woke up. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of earth and damp leaves, and everything felt like it was on the verge of something important. Jeeny sat on the edge of the room, her knees drawn to her chest, her eyes focused inward, as if lost in thought. The quiet hum of the morning surrounded them, and the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold settled over them like the mist outside.

Jack: “How many marbles do you have left? What kind of question is that? Every year is a marble, Jeeny? That’s some deep philosophical crap right there. Are we really supposed to sit here and count how much time we have left, like we're counting down to some deadline? I mean, what's the point of that? We can't live like that.”

Jeeny: “It's not about counting down, Jack. It’s about realizing that every moment is valuable. Marbles aren’t just numbers—they’re opportunities, experiences, sunrises that pass whether we notice them or not. How many do we have left? It’s a reminder to not let them slip away without truly living. To rise to the full stature of who we are. You can’t just let your life happen without ever questioning what you’re doing with it.”

Jack: “But what if I’m fine with letting life just happen? What if I don’t want to be constantly thinking about how many marbles are left in my jar? People waste time, Jeeny. It’s just part of living. You can’t live like every moment is life or death—that’s a quick way to burn out.”

Jeeny: “It’s not about living in constant fear of running out of time, Jack. It’s about being present. About embracing the opportunities, the chances to be who you truly are, instead of wasting away in regret. The marbles are a symbol—a reminder that time is fleeting. But it doesn’t mean you have to be obsessed with the ticking clock. It means you should live with more intention.”

Jack: “Intention, huh? That sounds nice and all, but how do you just wake up one day and decide to live with intention? It’s not like everything magically changes when you start thinking that way. The world’s a mess, and time doesn’t stop for anyone.”

Jeeny: “I’m not saying it’s going to change overnight, but you have to start somewhere, Jack. Every decision, every small step you take—those are moments that add up. Sunrises come and go, but if you’re too busy with your head down, running through life, you miss them. What do you really want to see when the sun rises? Because one day, there’s going to be a day when you can’t rise anymore.”

Host: The silence between them stretches, thick with the weight of what’s been said. Outside, the world feels still, as if holding its breath. The sunlight continues to warm the earth, the clouds drifting lazily by. Jack’s fingers tap nervously on the windowsill, the sound like a soft ticking clock.

Jack: “I don’t know, Jeeny. It’s hard not to get stuck in the routine, you know? Days blend together, and before you know it, you’ve missed a whole year. I get that time is valuable, but what if every moment feels like it’s already gone before you had a chance to catch it?”

Jeeny: “That’s the point, Jack. Every moment matters, but you can’t wait for some big revelation to suddenly make you wake up. You start by choosing what to do with the time you have. You decide to be more present in the little moments. Those are the marbles. How many do you want to leave behind? Because if you’re not careful, you’ll wake up one day, and there will be nothing but empty jars and regret.”

Jack: “And what do we do with the marbles once we realize they’re running out? Do we fill them with all the things we think we should have done, or do we start fresh, trying to make the most of the ones we have left?”

Jeeny: “It’s not about filling them with regret or guilt, Jack. It’s about choosing what to fill them with now. Hope, adventure, connection, whatever makes you feel like you’re truly living. Regret can never give you back a single marble, but today—this moment—it’s still yours to fill with whatever you choose.”

Host: The room feels still, but not in a way that’s uncomfortable. The air seems to shimmer with the possibility of change, as if something is stirring deep within. Jack’s face softens, his eyes focused on the horizon outside. The weight of Jeeny’s words is sinking in, but the question lingers in the air—How many marbles are left?

Jack: “You know… maybe I’ve been so focused on what I haven’t done that I’ve forgotten to focus on what I can do right now. Maybe I do need to stop taking it all for granted. But how do you really know if you’re using your marbles the right way?”

Jeeny: “You know by feeling it, Jack. When you’re truly alive in the moment, when you can look back and say, ‘I lived that.’ It’s about knowing that you gave your best, that you took the chance, no matter how small it seemed. Because when you really live with intention, when you fill those marbles with the stuff of your soul, you know. And that’s the only way to fill them, really.”

Host: The sunlight spills across the room now, bathing everything in a soft, golden glow. Outside, the trees sway gently in the breeze, and for the first time, Jack’s expression is less hardened, more open. The world is still, yet filled with the quiet hum of possibility. A new day begins, and with it, the potential to fill another marble with something meaningful.

As the day unfolds, the weight of the question lingers, but now it feels less like a burden and more like an invitation—an invitation to truly live.