I've gotten to travel all over the world and meet all kinds of

Mekhi Phifer, reflecting on his life’s journey, once said: “I’ve gotten to travel all over the world and meet all kinds of people and do all kinds of great things, so it’s, like, surreal. It just lets you know how time flies, especially when you’re having fun. It seems like time keeps going by faster as I get older.” Though his words carry the casual rhythm of conversation, they bear the weight of ancient wisdom. They speak of gratitude for life’s opportunities, of the fleeting nature of time, and of the strange quickening of years as age advances.

The first truth he reveals is wonder at the gift of travel and encounters with many people. To move across the earth, to see distant lands, to touch the lives of strangers—this is no small fortune. In calling it “surreal,” Phifer admits that such blessings seem beyond what one could ever imagine for oneself. This humility is itself wisdom: for when we see our lives as wondrous rather than entitled, we live in awe, and awe is the beginning of wisdom.

Yet his words quickly turn to the mystery of time. He notes how it flies, especially when joy fills our days. This is an ancient paradox: that moments of delight vanish swiftly, while moments of sorrow seem to linger like shadows that refuse to move. Even the Romans spoke of this, saying tempus fugit—time flees. In joy, hours pass as if they were minutes. In pain, minutes stretch as if they were hours. Phifer reminds us that life’s sweetness must be savored, for it will pass more quickly than we can hold.

He also observes the deepening mystery of aging: that as one grows older, time seems to move faster. This is no illusion of his alone; it is the testimony of countless elders. Childhood summers feel eternal, but in adulthood, years vanish like mist. Philosophers and scientists alike have wondered why, yet the wisdom remains the same: life accelerates as we age, and therefore, we must live each day with intention, for the days will not wait for us.

History gives us echoes of this truth. Consider Marcus Aurelius, who in his Meditations reflected constantly on the brevity of life. He urged himself never to waste an hour, knowing that the years ahead were few and fleeting. Or think of Alexander the Great, who by the age of thirty had conquered empires, but still felt the pressing weight of time, saying there were not enough worlds to match his ambition. Both men, in power and humility, knew the same thing Phifer speaks: that time is ever fleeing, and that only wisdom can teach us how to spend it.

The lesson here is not despair but urgency. Phifer does not lament the speed of time; rather, he names it as a reminder to cherish joy, to seize the moments given, to live fully while they are ours. For time flies, and we cannot stop it. But we can choose to fill its wings with laughter, friendship, love, and purpose, so that when it passes, it leaves behind not regret, but gratitude.

Practical counsel follows: live each day as if it were shorter than you think. Do not postpone joy. If there is a journey to take, a friend to call, a dream to pursue—do it now. Notice how swiftly the years move, and let that noticing awaken not fear but resolve. For though time moves faster with age, it also becomes sweeter, if we learn to treasure it.

Thus, Mekhi Phifer’s words, spoken with simplicity, echo the voices of sages and kings: life is fleeting, time flies, and the older we grow, the swifter it seems. Yet within this truth lies our greatest call—not to waste, not to delay, but to live. And in living, to make the brief hours of this life blaze with meaning.