My to-do lists are my sanity, and the future is something I cannot cross off or put a checkmark next to. I can’t label it a completed task because the capacity of brain space it takes up is too large to fit on paper. The future is ominous, and it hangs over my head, willing me to accept my fate, no matter what it might be.

I can look back and only remember the thrilling, adventure-seeking, happy parts of my life. I am capable of reminiscing about the good times because the good times are the only ones I remember. 

The past is safe because the outcome is clear, and it’s always joyful if you choose to make it so, and of course, if you were lucky enough to have a childhood as bright as mine. 

The future, on the other hand, is quite literally a leap into the uncertain. Although I may try incredibly hard, no amount of extreme planning or willpower is going to tell me what I will be like in five years or even tomorrow. That is what’s so terrifying about the future: it’s capable of anything, whether good or bad.

Everyone seems to romanticize the trait of organization as if it’s something that you should get praised for, but no one ever talks about the control issues that come along with it. And for me, nothing screams unorganized, uncontrollable, and petrifying like the future does.  

For the last two or three years of my life, my New Year’s resolutions have consisted of things along the lines of work hard, make your bed every day, and eat healthier, just like everyone else’s. However, at the bottom of my list each year, I scribble down the words “live in the moment.”

As I sit here writing about how the past is safe and the future is terrifying, I have come to the conclusion that I might have let the moment pass, and I think I forgot to revel in it. There are times when I might have had a thrilling experience or even forgotten for a second who everyone wants me to be, but no matter how much effort I put in, I always seem to realize how amazing moments were after they are already long gone.

But maybe there is no defining moment. Maybe, the “now” that I am so desperate to live in doesn’t really exist. We are all instead made up of past experiences that guide us into our future selves, and although my to-do lists may keep me grounded in the hypothetical “now,” they are merely a piece of paper that directs me to a brighter tomorrow.