When you envision the future
When you envision the future, what do you see—when you close your eyes and you are the person you must be to see it?
When you envision the future, what does it say—when, in stillness you create space to hear?
I know what it says, even when you don’t.
The future you envision, whispers
It’s yours, all of it. It’s yours for the taking. We know it’s hard—but it’s worth it—all of it. We know you’ve stumbled and tripped and fumbled and failed—but it’s worth it. We see what you can’t see, and we are what you’ve not yet become. It’s all, every part, worth it. Keep going. Please keep going. Please... It’s worth the pain. It’s worth the fear. It’s worth the doubt. It’s worth the trauma and questioning and comparing and second-guessing—it is worth it all. We are you. We have everything you have. We’ve just seen more. We just know more—because we’re there—already. We just feel more—because it’s real for us in ways you can only hope it will be real for you. It is real nonetheless. Remember we are you and you are us. There is no distinction except that which is found in time. And, yes, space too… The only way to delete, and it most certainly will erase us, and all that you could’ve had, all that you could've been—all that you could've seen and realized. The only certainty is, if you quit, you and us—we—will never be. If you quit, we transition—from that which is, to that which was—only a possibility, only a dream. This is the only way that we are not—your choice to—not—envision the future.
Do whatever you must
Learn whatever you must. Become whatever you must, in order to persevere.
For when you do, and I desperately hope you do—what a beautiful future you will have.