Even Children Get Older

As March was ending and Spring was beginning, I started to see the light at the end of my seasonal depression and decided to do a deep clean/purge of every nook and cranny in my room.

I had spent an entire weekend blasting music in my Brooklyn apartment and Marie Kondo-ing every pajama shirt I’ve held onto since high school, every college notebook (why do we still have those?), and every free Sephora sample I’ve been getting around to try.

While I organized, I found a photo of child me, probably around 4 or 5 snuggled in my hot pink bed, in my hot pink room.

I put the picture aside and kept cleaning.

Anytime life feels too overwhelming and I need something to ground me back down to Earth, I often return to my ‘oldies I love’ playlist (a short 16 hrs). I find that songs from a previous generation bring me great amounts of comfort, knowing they’ve stood the test of time. Listened to and loved by many, many people before me.

One song I come back to often is Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. (Though I grew up primarily listening to The Chicks cover.)

Stevie Nicks asks,

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

and I feel as though I’m hearing the words again for the first time. Why are we so hard on ourselves again? This is, in fact, the first time we’re figuring out this go at life.

I challenge myself (and you) to think about the parts of life that might never feel perfect but will one day make 30-year-old, 40-year-old, 50-year-old you look back with admiration. You were doing the best you could. You won’t always be this age, in this apartment, maybe even in this job. So what can we be a little gentler with ourselves about? And what might we miss about this season once it’s gone?

“Time makes you bolder.” It’s true — the only thing that brings clarity, teaches us lessons, and helps us grow is time. Might as well get comfortable with it.

—

I took the photo and put it on my desk. I look at it every day.

I wonder about all of the seasons of life I’ve yet to live, but trusting in myself that I’ll be able to sail through them.

I wonder what 70-year-old me will think about when she listens to the lyrics and looks back at the picture of child me in the hot pink room.

P.S. Stevie was only 27 when she wrote Landslide <3