Having a clue is overrated

I have no five year plan, never had one

Many say that if you’re young, you have time: There’s no point in being in a rush, and you have to think bigger. A year is nothing, they say. But how do they know? Without doing anything wrong, you may get hit by a car or find out that you have a lethal tumor today. Having time assumes you know your future, which you don’t; you may die tomorrow. – And then what?

The most inspiring moment in my life hasn’t happened – it’s my own funeral. If there’s something I always think about, it's death. Of course, only if we put the hot blondes aside. At the end of one’s life, very little matters. As long as I breathe, I keep in mind that you can’t overstate the monumental insignificance of almost everything. I cannot know what matters at the end of one’s life, but I can speculate that peace of mind does – the antithesis of regret and resentment.

When people say, ‘You have time,’ they set themselves up for a monumental dose of regret. They assume that one shouldn’t be too hard on oneself and that it’s okay to waste one’s life because time is supposedly abundant. But I beg to differ. Wasting time isn’t remotely sexy; wasting time is always the wrong choice.

So, what is my five-year plan?

I don’t have one; I don’t need one.

I am where I have arrived. If I were to die tomorrow, nothing would change about my day; my bucket list is empty, and I don’t wait, hoping for things to change. I wouldn’t need to tell my mother I love her because I do so every day. I wouldn’t need to reflect on the cosmic insignificance of a single human life because every time I write, I write as if it’s the last time I'm given a voice. I am exactly where I deserve to be, and I live every day as if it’s my last. Hence, I am at peace.

In the past four years, I have collected irrefutable evidence that I am who I say I am. Looking back, I see that I got everything there was to get. There’s nothing left undone, nothing that I could have done better. I’m 17 years old, and it's my second week of university. I finished 12th grade at 16 and got a perfect high school diploma. I went from being bullied to being a high school legend. I dedicated six thousand hours toward building two businesses. Both failed, but at that point, who cares? I developed across every realm, whether physical, emotional, or spiritual.

I asked out the same girl four times, and now I’ve realized how accurately that mirrors my approach to life: I can only control my actions. The future hasn’t arrived, and the past doesn’t exist. I like to think ahead, yet over and over again, I realize that long-term thinking has limits. After getting rejected the fourth time, I knew there was nothing left to be done. I had given my best. – That’s completion, an emotion so rare that most deem it impossible. I want a life where there’s nothing left to give. I want to die without potential, without things I could have done. I want to give everything there is to give: Naked I was born, naked, I shall die.

In a world of infinite uncertainty, I can only speculate on the battles that lie ahead, yet I know who’s seeking to conquer them.

Having a clue is overrated. Why should I pretend I know everything? Only God shall know my five-year plan.

Kiryl P.