What would you say to your younger self? One of my favorite writers, Liz Danzico, answered that same question recently in an eloquent, beautiful, almost-poetic way:
“I used to think life was an intricate series of spreadsheets and grids, weights and balances, promotions and boardroom standoffs. As grew older I realized life is less grid and more raw data, less stop sign and more yield, less urban and more sprawl. Life passes by in seasons, not days, and best we can do is choose our category headers, theme songs, and instruments to make the most of every day. With that, we can see the world as we move through it.”
What would you say? What would I say? Would I tell my younger self to be wary of people who say they love you but never do anything to show it? Would I tell him to guard against those who are easy to take from your goodness and only give back negativity? Or would I tell him to approach the world with caution so that you don’t get trampled on, personally, professionally, and constantly have to rebuild?
No. I would tell him many things, but would repeat the refrain: approach the world with reckless abandon. Don’t be scared to run, to jump, to try, to fail, to have your heart broken, to see opportunities slip away. Be knocked down, and keep getting up. Life will rush by, and you have to be willing to run (and leap, and dance, and fly) along with it.