Skip to main content

It's Never Too Late

It’s never too late.  Do what you love.  Live a life that makes you proud.  These sayings may seem trite.  But, there is some truth to them.

It’s never too late.  Just because conventional wisdom says it is so, may not make it right.  For instance, some people find their calling at an early age.  They know almost from childhood what they want to do with their life…and they do it.  Others do not discover their purpose until well into adulthood.  They try a variety of fields until they find that one thing.  Their passion.  What they love.  The thing that makes them proud.

These feelings were best summed up by F. Scott Fitzgerald, when he wrote:
“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case,
too early to be whoever you want to be.
There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want.
You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing.
We can make the best or the worst of it.
I hope you make the best of it.
And I hope you see things that startle you.
I hope you feel things you never felt before.
I hope you meet people with a different point of view.
I hope you live a life you’re proud of.
If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.”

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Catch A Cab

We had been walking for about forty-five minutes, making our way from Manhattan’s South Street Seaport to the Macy’s flagship store on 34th Street. When we were within fifteen blocks of our destination, some of my companions decided that we should complete our journey by cab. Despite my attempts to convince them to keep walking, they were insistent. The trip that ensued was a true New York experience. After a few minutes of trying, one of my companions was able to hail a cab. However, we wanted to go north. The cab that stopped was going south. It did not seem to matter, though, as my companions still got in the cab. One person sat in the front while I slipped into the backseat, between the other two. Hardly before the doors could close, the driver had fought his way into Manhattan traffic. Without warning, he took a sharp right turn onto a side street and began to head north, steadily increasing his speed. Within seconds, the cab was weaving a
1 comment
Read more

When in Rome . . . or Seattle

What was I doing here? I do not even drink coffee. Besides, all of these places basically look the same. This place was no different, really. What was the point of my being here? I had no intention of ordering coffee. Yet, there I was, standing in a tiny Starbucks Coffee shop in Seattle. I was not alone. The store was packed to the point where I could hardly move. While most of the people in the store had a drink in hand, I spotted a few who, like me, were just looking around. In any other city, this might have seemed exceedingly strange, going to Starbucks with no intention of getting coffee. But, this was different. This was the first Starbucks. Seattle and coffee are somewhat linked. It was in Seattle that coffee became a pastime. What was once a drink largely reserved for mornings and evening meals, became a day-long obsession. Granted, Starbucks is just another large corporation. But, it was in Seattle that Starbucks began. Seeking out the first store see
1 comment
Read more

Looking At My Luggage

More than twenty four hours had passed since I had arrived in Washington, D.C. My luggage was still nowhere to be found. Despite the promises of the airline’s agents, my missing suitcase had not yet been delivered. With no other alternative, I had spent the day touring Washington in the clothes that I had worn a day earlier. Clothes that I was still wearing. A full day had passed. My friend and I had returned to her house from dinner to find that my belongings remained missing. I promptly began calling the airline, trying to track down my baggage. The agent assured me that my luggage had been located and dropped off at my friend’s home by a delivery service the previous evening. I assured her that it had not been delivered. After more than fifteen minutes of her continued assurances, I was transferred to the delivery service. As with the airline, the delivery service assured me that my luggage had been dropped off, going so far as to give me a specific time at which i
1 comment
Read more