Onward, and to the Stars

As I embrace the idea of looking to the future, and of making sense of what is to come, I find myself less anxious than I might’ve previously. Lack of anxiety, of course, may not necessarily mean lack of fear itself, but I do believe I am more at ease. And for that, I am grateful. I don’t know where this newfound peace is coming from, and how to hone it holistically and optimize in the way that I probably should. I suspect optimism for the future is stemming from an exhaustion with my preceding obsession with the past, or perhaps, just a clear understanding of the need to release it.

Regardless, after a long time, I am thinking about tomorrow. I am thinking about the weeks to come, about what will become of everything. I am more conscious of my relationships with people, and will attempt to be more charismatic and attentive in the way I interact with them (I think, now, that they deserve this, and that I have been wrong to remain distant and cold for the sake of my own convenience). I don’t know whether I can become less selfish, for while in theory it seems to be a brilliantly simple and becoming manner of living, I find it difficult to practice the art of denying my own desires. Still, I’ll try to work on that. Hedonism, in all of the luxuries it provides, is not something I’m sure I want my legacy (should there be one) to be associated with.

There is a lot I want to do with whatever time I may have left. I know how irritatingly cliché that sounds, and I know how many people who’ve made the very same claim have done little with their actions to support it. Even still, I felt the need to say it, because I feel it, and at this point in my life I am finding that feeling something is often the most apt and apparent cue we ever get to say it; I may be wrong. I feel I’ve wasted an insurmountable amount of valuable time. And I don’t mean to say this to evoke a feeling of regret or depression, but of ambition and determination, to make sure I don’t continue to mistake the time I am given as some sort of prison sentence. Time was not the shackle, my perspective was; time is a privilege, one I had been ignorantly wasting.

I hope that this final push into utter adulthood, turning twenty, means I will begin to transform (as I would very much like to) from a girl of thought and grotesque obsession, into a woman of action and eloquence. I want to think less, and do more. I want to plan less, and see more. I want to be absolutely present in every moment granted to me. The time, as I now know, is now.

I have found that the secret of letting go of my obsession with the past, of allowing myself to come face to face with the idea of fashioning my future in cognizance of its significance to me, was to understand that the future is not some distant, intangible phenomenon, it is now. Someday is here, and it is time to make of it what I will.    

Some Advice for my Timid Spirit 

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It’s important to do something worthwhile with the time you have. Do something that you enjoy, that compels your soul to smile and that makes you feel like all the time in the world just wouldn’t be enough. Do what makes you happy and spread the joy that results from this pleasure. Scoff in the face of negativity and answer the mercilessness of your circumstances with unwavering perseverance.

Understand that no one owes you anything, and that this is a great advantage. You have the opportunity to build yourself entirely on your own, to be proud of the person that you become. You have the ability to make choices, to learn, to do things and be anything that springs from the universe in your mind.

Know how to recognize those who truly care for you and cherish them with all the might you possess. Do not harbor ill will towards anyone, find better ways to expend your energy. Think of yourself as a beacon of light and gaiety, spread warmth and comfort despite the state of your environment, leave a lingering sense of hope for others to hold onto.

Be calm. Learn to find peace within yourself. Work through problems with clarity and resilience. Do not be intimidated by difficulty. Strenuous situations make for added color and a more interesting narrative in your ongoing internal monologue, you’ll learn to enjoy this.

Appreciate the beauty all around you as well as inside you. Find the good, find the pure, and respect it in all that it means to you. Acknowledge the bad, acknowledge the tainted, and put forward all the effort you maintain to change it. Understand that good intentions are an act of good will within themselves, and set out to ameliorate what you feel you must.

Smile. Breathe. Listen to some good music. Hang out with friends. Value your instincts and know that you know more than you think you do. Realize that what you now find difficult will seem like child’s play to the you that is looking fondly back in the time that is yet to come.

Be present. This moment will never return, live.