There are many “best” moments that have come and gone. I try to harbor fewer regrets about anything as I get older. Holding any negativity or judgment toward anything, really, is only ever self-serving and muddies the lucidity of awareness and inspiration. It’s been far too easy to beat the shit out of myself, or to project my fears onto others.
This day will pass, whether you dreamed a little dream, drew up a plan, took a baby step toward a goal, did what you loved to do, spent time with whom you wanted to, followed through on those tiny impulses, built something with your hands, started into a new book from the thrift store, sang your own beautiful song…
There is a vast web of constrictions we’ve learned to live with in the Western world, and most of them are quite cleverly masked. By the time we’ve reached adulthood, many of us have all but forgotten our childhood dreams, and live in a mostly functional, yet desperately quiet existence.