"I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."
— Robert Frost

This is for those who have finished — or dropped out — from college or university. It's for those whose lives once consisted of timetables, classes and meetings but are now devoid of duty and responsibility, those whose futures are open terrains of possibility waiting (ever-so-patiently) to be explored. I see you. I know it's scary right now but please trust me when I say things are about to get so much better.

I understand what it is to feel our "perfect" futures that we envision for ourselves are dependable on very specific choices we must make very carefully. That isn't entirely the case. We forget that this journey, that's unique to everyone, isn't as ideal as boarding first class for a flight that takes you directly to your dream destination.

It's off the beaten track. It's an old winding road that's bumpy, treacherous on occasion, sometimes a little dull but always incomprehensibly beautiful. It leads us from the darkest night of the soul to the happiest days of our lives, this ongoing journey. We must experience the full tempestuousness of the predicament in order to learn more of ourselves. Isn't that why we're here, after all? To explore?

Chiseling away at ourselves, the eager sculptors that we are, so impatient for results is killing us. It's imperative that we're careful not to chisel away at something beautiful and unique in a rushed or frustrated attempt to be "complete."

From such a young age we are urged to imagine and romanticize the future. This leads to the envisioning of our dream weddings, our perfect jobs and what we could call our football team of children that we strive to have by the time we're 30. This means we need to be married at 28, whereupon it's vital that we find our perfect partner at 23, because, obviously, we would need to be in a steady, loving relationship for at least five years before any knots are tied. Suddenly, you realize you're 24 and very, very single. Anxiety and feelings of failure prevail. Of course, this is all hypothetical.

Crazy, isn't it? I'm curious to know if anybody's 10-year plan has ever worked out accordingly and if it truly brought them happiness. I do know that it deflects from the beauty of living in the moment. It's impossible to be fully present and to be conscious participants in our own lives when we spend the whole time planning out our futures in our head.

This is a social construct I would like to stop at once. Stop leading children to believe that there is a respectable time frame for them to achieve certain goals, or pressuring them into thinking they need them at all if they're not ready. Is it that you want them to be a vision of yourself? The only outcome this will manifest is guilt and unnecessary stress for an individual who is otherwise healthy and thriving.

In essence, it's just as OK to stray from the plan as it is to not have one. Our ultimate fate will occur regardless and, when it does, it will be more magical than you've ever envisioned it to be.

To experience a blip or two down our individual winding roads is entirely expected. It's entirely human. So, friend, do not fret: bigger and better things are yet to happen. We need the darkness to appreciate the light, after all.