Article #467
Australian palliative care nurse Bronnie Ware spent eight years at the bedside of the dying, sitting with people through the last weeks of their lives. She recorded what she heard; first in a 2009 blog post, later in a book read by millions in more than 30 languages. The most common regret? "I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me."
As someone who has spent decades stewarding Hawke's Bay families through business succession and long-term planning, it’s a familiar refrain. We build empires of assets, careers and obligations, and somewhere along the way we drift from the authentic life we once envisioned.
The dying don't speak of missed promotions, bigger houses or the perfect investment return. They speak of roads not taken because they followed someone else's script - years spent chasing approval from parents, peers and society, or the expectations that attach themselves to a "successful" professional life. In our community and line of work, that pressure is real. Family businesses carry generational weight. Clients arrive burdened with keeping up appearances, maintaining the farm, the firm, or the lifestyle their circle demands.
Ware had a patient called Grace. Grace felt pressured to remain in an unhappy marriage; when freedom finally arrived, terminal illness arrived with it. She regretted not finding the courage sooner. It’s not so different to tales of the local farmer who poured decades into the land his father expected him to inherit, and never pursued the enterprise he truly dreamed of. Authenticity isn't rebellion for its own sake. It is the quiet courage to choose what endures.
Ware’s patients often realised too late that even close family members had little idea of their innermost dreams. The same disconnect can appear in professional relationships. Many assume their advisers fully understand their plans and values – typically, that isn't the case. It’s one thing to know a client's balance sheet, and quite another to know what they are building it for.
“I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.”
According to Ware, this second came from every male patient she nursed. They missed their children's youth and their partner's companionship. We tell ourselves the long hours are for the family, the security, the future. Yet when time is running low, we realise time itself is the one asset we cannot replenish or reallocate.
Here in Hawke's Bay – after cyclones, economic pressures and rates burdens – many of us have doubled down on work as a form of control. But true stewardship requires balance. Succession planning isn't as simple as handing over the keys. It's ensuring the next generation inherits not just wealth, but the example of a life well-lived. My own son’s interest in commerce is encouraging, yet he needs space to find his own path, including time overseas, before stepping into any role. The same goes for our daughter as she gains independence.
"I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings."
Many of Ware’s patients had suppressed their feelings simply to keep the peace, settling for an existence they didn’t love as a result. In family enterprises and marriages alike, unspoken truths fester. Those who found peace reconciled old hurts while there was still time. The same holds in teams, partnerships and advisory relationships: address misalignments early, not once the damage is done.
“Friends slip away.”
Ware recalled a patient called Doris, all alone in a nursing home with her daughter living far away. Ware tracked down an old friend and arranged a phone call - it lifted Doris's spirits in her final days. Busy lives and distance make friendship easy to neglect, yet old mates anchor us. In our Scottish-heritage household, with its Royal Stewart tartan, we see the value of connection. The same applies in business: relationships built on trust and shared values outlast any transactional deal.
“I wish that I had let myself be happier.”
Happiness wasn't something that happened to them; it was a choice they postponed, waiting for the perfect conditions - retirement, the next milestone, the kids leaving home - only to find joy lives in ordinary moments and the gratitude for health while it lasts. As one of the sayings I live by puts it: if you think wellness is expensive, try illness.
It's amazing how many people can tell you the market numbers and bond ratings, but can't tell you their cholesterol or their calcium heart score.
The lessons we can apply in financial planning
This aligns with what we observe in sound financial planning. The best portfolios aren't those chasing the highest returns at all costs, but those built on disciplined, values-aligned decisions that weather volatility. The same holds for a life. Authenticity compounds. When your daily actions reflect your core beliefs around integrity, family, community, stewardship - regret finds little room to grow. Decisions get easier.
We are, ultimately, in the goal-achievement business. What use is beating the market if you achieve none of your goals?
None of this means abandoning responsibility. It’s quite the opposite: living authentically demands discipline. It requires clear priorities, the courage to say no, and planning for money and time to serve your goals rather than dictating them. It means protecting family time as fiercely as you protect the balance sheet – and mentoring the next generation not just in business acumen, but in character.
If someone in your advisory circle doesn't gel with your plans and values, it's okay to stop the bus and let them off. There's always another person who shares your vision and will carry it forward. I could sit comfortably and avoid telling clients what they don't want to hear, but that isn't the job. Our fiduciary responsibility is to lead, and to speak the unspoken truth.
As we navigate an uncertain world - policy shifts, economic headwinds, rates and infrastructure - the palliative nurse's counsel offers a north star. Build wealth, yes. Grow the enterprise, absolutely. But never at the expense of the life you were meant to lead.
The good news is we don't need a terminal diagnosis to change course. Start today. Revisit what truly matters to you and your whānau. Have you ever had a genuinely authentic discussion with your advisers - one about your values, not just your numbers? Surround yourself with like-minded folk who will carry your ideals forward long after you've gone: trusted trustees, key team members and professional stewards who understand the bigger picture.
In the end, true success isn't measured in dollars or status. It's measured in a life lived true to yourself - with courage, presence and heart. Often, Ward’s patients understood this only when it was too late. The living can seek wise counsel while they still have the time to act on it.
Nick Stewart
(Ngāi Tahu, Ngāti Huirapa, Ngāti Māmoe,
Ngāti Waitaha)
Financial Adviser and CEO at Stewart Group
Stewart Group is a Hawke's Bay and Wellington based CEFEX & BCorp certified financial planning and advisory firm providing personal fiduciary services, Wealth Management, Risk Insurance & KiwiSaver scheme solutions.
The information provided, or any opinions expressed in this article, are of a general nature only and should not be construed or relied on as a recommendation to invest in a financial product or class of financial products. You should seek financial advice specific to your circumstances from a Financial Adviser before making any financial decisions. A disclosure statement can be obtained free of charge by calling 0800 878 961 or visit our website, www.stewartgroup.co.nz
REFERENCES
Bronnie Ware, The Top Five Regrets of the Dying: A Life Transformed by the Dearly Departing (2011); originally the 2009 blog post "Regrets of the Dying," bronnieware.com
The Top Five Regrets of the Dying review, National Center for Biotechnology Information (PMC), pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov
"No Regrets" interview with Bronnie Ware, Mindful, mindful.org
Shortform book guide, The Top Five Regrets of the Dying, shortform.com