I spent more time last year fearing 26 than living 25, and it felt awful. I feared a loss of youth, but what does youth even mean to me?
Beauty?
Energy?
I’ve bemoaned and feared never having either of those my whole life so why should I fear losing something I claim to not have?
Relevancy?
Currency?
I’m not relevant – how does one achieve relevance when actively avoiding having both an online and offline presence? As for currency, I’d need to be in a position to use said youth-afforded currency to worry about not having any left.
So, basically, I’m worried about a loss of what my youth could hypothetically provide me instead of actually enjoying it as I live it. That sounds so very dumb, and sad. What does a loss of youth mean? It means aging and it means death. It reminds me, everyone, that even if time itself isn’t finite, our time is, and it’s always just hanging by a string that we’re unable to know when or how will snap.
That’s really what I fear. My mortality and the idea that everything I’ve ever done was a mistake, or that I was and could never be capable of true success, or that even if I am capable I’m wasting precious time, or that I’m either being too cautious with my life or not cautious enough. It’s a cyclic fear that has driven me from my body and chased me into the corners of my own mind, and has ensnared me in mapping and erasing and reviewing my life under a microscope instead of living and feeling it. It’s sapped me of my self love and trust in myself, and truthfully I really don’t recognize myself most days.
I was recently advised to live life one point at a time. One day at a time. Even if you have a blueprint or seeds to plant, it is still your responsibility to put it together or water the seeds everyday. I can build if I’m always revising and I can’t build if I’m always worrying over how it will turn out.
So I’ve resolved to live by this:
Yesterday is dead, and tomorrow doesn’t exist. Today is all I have. There is no tomorrow if there’s no [action] today. If there’s no action today, then tomorrow I’ll be in the same exact point as yesterday, and eventually be dead alongside yesterday.
Therefore, all I can do is live today and be in today. Easier said than done, but it’s a better action plan than any I’ve had these past few years.
26 day one was good, so 26 is good. I woke up to pancakes, saw two movies, and wore two different sets of elf ear cuffs and a pretty dress.
There’s no yesterday because I wasn’t 26 yesterday, and there’s no tomorrow because it doesn’t exist yet. If it doesn’t exist I don’t have to think about it. I don’t have to worry about it.
So, 26 is good.