The fields next to ours

Can I tell you a secret?

Time moves really fast.

I’m not kidding. One minute you’re nineteen, and the next minute you’re twenty-seven.

One minute you’re on the cusp of a big adventure, and the next minute you’ve achieved your dream and you’ve been living your dream for almost two years.

This was supposed to be a “one-year experiment.” Let me tell you, one year is nothing. One year goes by like that.

This is me yelling from the top of a giant bale of hay that the next year is coming. That you’re in the moment now, but that in a blink of an eye you won’t even remember what you did this month let alone today.

Time just flies.

Well, you knew that already, right? “So what,” right?

My point is to stop waiting.

Stop waiting to do whatever it is that you want to do. Stop waiting to tell her you love her or to write that book or join that club or lose those ten pounds. Just do it.

I’ve been going through a “what should I do with my life” moment, hence, I’m reading a book by the same name.

Author Po Bronson’s contention in terms of what we should do with our lives:

“Most of us don’t get epiphanies. We only get a whisper–a faint urge. That’s it. That’s the call. It’s up to you to do the work of discovery, to connect it to an answer.”

That totally scares me. I’d been under the impression that some people just really know what it is that they want. But what if it turns out that Po Bronson is right? That nobody knows for sure. That all we get is a faint whiff of what we really want? Is that all there is?

If so, then we’d better listen. And act now.

Because time flies, and the big wheel keeps on turning.

Us with old hay