Editor's letter: We will never be this young again


At the time I'm writing this I’m 22 years, 9 months, and 17 days old. That’s about 8,346 days old. It means I'm soon turning 23 - in less than 3 months, to be precise. By the time this post goes online, 8,346 will have turned into 8,348. And it will never, not even once go back to the 8,346 I’m counting today. After this day, I will never be 8,346 days old again.

It seems like the older we get, the faster time flies by. As if pace of life just magically starts speeding up, seemingly passing us without daring to stop even that one single time. Some say to thank our shifting release of dopamine dropping by the age of twenty, while others believe our years to literally fly by after welcoming the set routine we're slowly but steadily starting to settle into, as we're getting ready to stick to a life pattern day in, day out - just like that same old song we refuse to take off repeat.

When we're young, life is full of firsts. First day of primary school. First day of summer vacation. First date. First kiss. First relationship. First heartbreak. Everything about those moments is fresh and new. First memories are dense, while the routines of later life seem to have all the trappings of a boring existence - we’re expected to follow a nine-to-five work schedule, to acquire a static place of residence, to travel to the same places each and every day and follow the same autonomous routine - driven by the paralysing pressure to succeed.

I for my part am terrified of getting older and settling into things - a city, a partner, and amongst all a routine that expands far beyond the daily or weekly, but to the yearly. Probably because I'm a master at leaving - at changing things up and moving on - dipping my foot in one world and then move on to another.
It seems like the most precious thing any of us has is time, and we'll never be as young again as we are today. I'm not planning on making forays into permanency any time soon. And I will probably never be that person just floating through life. I believe in the occasional first, even if you do get older. I believe in doing something different every day. To make the days last. Shouldn't that be our ultimate goal?