By Nahrizul Adib Kadri
Here’s something we don’t say often enough: This is the first time any of us are alive.
This version of life we’re living — this body, this age, these people, these joys, these struggles — we’re experiencing it all for the very first time. No rehearsals. No user manual. Just a lot of improvisation.
So if you’re stumbling, second-guessing yourself, or unsure what comes next — that’s not failure.
That’s humanity.
And it’s exactly why we need to be kinder. Kinder to others, yes — but also to ourselves.
Too often, we treat life like a test we’re supposed to already have the answers to. We judge ourselves for not being further along, for not having everything figured out. We replay past mistakes like cautionary tales. We compare ourselves to people walking entirely different paths and wonder why we aren’t moving at the same speed.
But think about it: if this is your first time doing something — anything — would you expect perfection?
Would you tell off a child for falling off a bicycle the first time they try? Would you scold someone learning to speak for mispronouncing a word? Of course not. So why are we so harsh with ourselves?
There’s a gentle reminder I often carry from “Tuesdays with Morrie”, where Mitch Albom’s beloved professor said, “Have a little compassion for yourself. You’re doing the best you can.” And sometimes, that’s the most radical thing you can do: offer yourself the grace to be a beginner.
Because we all are, really.
Even the people who seem to have it all together — the confident speaker, the seemingly perfect parent, the polished professional — they, too, are figuring it out as they go. Just like you. Just like me.
Rumi once wrote, “Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead, let life live through you.” That line has always resonated with me — not just because of its poetry, but because of its truth. Life isn’t something we master; it’s something we allow. And in that allowing, there is space for growth, error, change, and grace.
I remember a time, many years ago, when I fumbled my way through a departmental meeting meeting when I was the Head of Department. I had all the documents, I’d read the agenda — but somehow, nothing I said seemed to sound right. I walked out of the room embarrassed, thinking I had made a terrible impression.
A few days later, a senior colleague approached me. “It’s okay,” he said. “There’s a first to everything. Just keep showing up.”
That small kindness — that reminder that I wasn’t expected to be perfect — stayed with me far longer than the embarrassment ever did.
And that’s the thing. We don’t often remember the details of people’s achievements. But we do remember how they made us feel — especially when we were vulnerable.
Which brings me to the second part of the thought: be kind to others.
Because everyone you meet is also doing this life thing for the first time. The person who cut you off in traffic might be overwhelmed with worry. The colleague who seems cold might be carrying something invisible. The student who missed your deadline might be navigating more than you know.
This isn’t about excusing poor behaviour. It’s about approaching each other with a bit more compassion, a bit more curiosity, and a lot less judgment.
There’s a quiet dignity in giving people the benefit of the doubt. Not because they’ve earned it — but because we’ve all needed it, at one point or another.
Life, in many ways, is a shared improvisation. We’re all actors with no script, trying to make sense of the story while it’s unfolding. And the more kindness we offer — the more pauses we allow, the more second chances we extend — the more human this experience becomes.
When astronauts return to Earth after spending time in space, they often speak of something called the “overview effect.” It’s a cognitive shift that happens when they see the planet from afar — small, fragile, borderless. And in that moment, they realise how interconnected everything truly is. How precious. How fleeting.
We don’t need to go to space to feel that. All we need is a bit of perspective — and a reminder that this life is a first-time experience for us all.
So be kind. Especially when it’s hard. Especially when you’re tired. Especially when you feel like you’ve failed.
Because you’re not failing; you’re learning. Whether today felt like a win or a mess, whether you’re riding momentum or just holding things together — take a breath. Place a gentle hand on your heart.
This is your first time living this life.
Ir Dr Nahrizul Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, and the Principal of Ibnu Sina Residential College, Universiti Malaya.
