I had a talk with myself tonight. Maybe you have them from time to time as well. Not the out-loud kind of talk, but the inner pep-talk variety. You see, I tend to measure the fullness of life not through material possessions, but through experiences.
I’ve almost always surrounded myself with friends who were older. Back in middle and high school they were usually only a year or two older… now they tend to be more in the 5-15 year range. Comparing material possessions has never been a problem. Of course I don’t have my own house yet—I’m 23 years old. Ditto for huge televisions or fancy cars or really upscale decorations, clothes, whatever the case may be. I don’t care (probably partially is a result of the fact that I don’t care about shopping or buying fancy stuff anyway, but that’s a discussion for another day).

The problem comes in somewhere else entirely. Possessions never matter, but experiences do. How dare my friend have been able to go _____... why can’t I have done that yet? Why does s/he have all these great stories about ______. I wish I had stories like that. I wish I had seen those beautiful places. I wish I had done those things… they sound fun.

Whatever the case may be.

Today I reminded myself that it’s okay. I don’t need to have a doctorate by age 30, or start having babies. Okay, you caught me… I’m not sure I ever want either of those things. And that’s okay! More importantly, the things I do want to do: see the world, have something published, change the world in a noticeable (positive) way, and all the other wonderful little things on my bucket list (again—another post) can be gradual journeys as well.

Honestly, if I rushed through all of them tomorrow, would there be a point? If you accomplish everything you want to at age 23 there’s nothing to look forward to… plus, I wouldn’t be taking adequate time to enjoy myself along the way.

Life is an adventure. I intend to relish it and make it memorable.


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