A Letter to my Past, Current, and Future Self, and All Those Like Me:

First, stand tall.
Do not stoop as if
bending under the weight
of bricks, or troubles, or
the world itself.
No—straighten your legs,
weary as they may be
from your glorious, uncertain travels.
Straighten your back,
hunched as it might have become
over the course of years and miles.
Straighten your neck,
though it wants to lean forward
for it carries the burden
of all you have seen and heard
and of all you have learned—
ten million lessons in all.
Stand tall.
Now look out, at all of
the unfathomable possibility.
Yes, you may see hardships
waiting up ahead,
and yes, you may see mountains
with cliffs too steep to tackle.
But look out, and know
that you will make it; you will survive.
As you look out
at all there is,
also look up
at all there might be.
Look up toward the heavens;
dare to dream of beauty.
Let your mind not be limited
by where you have traveled,
what you have seen,
who you have been.
Instead, embrace the possible.
Don’t be weighed down by stones of the past,
but let each of those ten million lessons
become a foothold for your journey.
How much you have learned!—
and yet.
How much you will learn
with the next breath you take
and the next dream you dream.
Stand tall,
Look out,
Look up.
And live.