Think in Years. Work in Months. Live in Days.
A decade ago, I was 12. When you are 12, you are in fifth grade. That is, of course, if you did school that way. When you are 12, you still play kickball with the boys. When you're 12, you think your 17 year old babysitter is 25. And you think they are the coolest person you have ever known or encountered.
When you're 12 you still go to the pool and ask what game you guys should play. When you're 12, the world is simple, tangible. A playground floating in space. When you're 12, you may even still believe in Santa. If you don't, its your sworn duty to keep it a secret for the lucky believers. When you're 12, Mom still tells you to eat your veggies and excuses you from the table. When you're 12, you dream of being an astronaut. When you're 12, the floor is still lava. When you're 12, the lemonade stand is your 9-5. When you're 12, Mom and Dad are cool.
I was 12 ten years ago. A decade.
Now you are 22. Do you believe in Santa? Do you go knock on your friends door and ask to play? Do Mom and Dad still make you laugh? Has the lemonade stand gone public and sold to Minute Maid? Do you still dream of space? Do you still imagine what it's like to drive a car? Do you ask the friend next to you to play tic-tac-toe? Do you swap pens during home period?
TEN years from now—
Will believing in love become like believing in Santa? Will wanting to be a painter replace what was the lemonade stand? Will your hip new boss become the less-than-they-are babysitter? Will protein shakes become your eat-your-veggies?
Don't give up on the things you believe in. Don't grow embarrassed by the magic this life creates for you.
Those things were real then, why discredit them now? If they were ever real, they are real. But what's real for me now may not be real for me when I'm 32 but I hope they are. I hope I still believe in being my dreams. In love. In magic.
Like when you squint and you can see the sun on your eyelashes.
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