I've been spending a lot of time this week thinking about the present.
Well, kind of.
I have this terrible habit. And, tonight, I felt really called to... not unpack it in front of you with depth and gusto, but just to vocalize it. This will be a short email. I just had this funny feeling it's going to really resonate with you.
So, the habit.
Somehow, by accident, somewhere along the way, I seem to have convinced myself that my life starts tomorrow.
And I've been doing the work–big time–to unconvince myself of this in 2018.
I know one thing: I'm not mad at myself for it. I think it's a natural mentality that made a lot of sense at ages 10, 15, 20, and 25. But now I'm in the throes of planning my 30th birthday (calm down, it's not until April) and it's not serving me anymore.
This is it.
This is my life.
Today is now, and now is today, and nothing starts tomorrow that doesn't start today, and this is really it, this is my life.
And this is your life, too.
Maybe you get exactly what I mean. Maybe you've been feeling it lately too. That curious sensation that everything, surely, will make more sense tomorrow. Always tomorrow.
When I was in Kenya earlier this month, the MCs of the event would start every concert or talk or gathering with the same call-and-response.
What time is it? they would ask.
Now! we were all supposed to reply.
WHAT time is it?
It's really stuck with me.
Now: what do we wanna go do about it?
PS: If you don’t like where you are, move. You are not a tree.