The Version of You I Hope You Never Throw Away

Most attics contain treasures.

The problem is that we forget they're there.

A photograph.

A letter.

A piece of music.

A memory.

A glimpse of who we once were.

I sometimes think about the younger version of myself.

Not because I want to go back.

I don't.

But there are things about her that I would like to keep.

Her curiosity.

Her willingness to try.

Her ability to become completely absorbed in something she loved.

Somewhere along the way, many of us become very good at being adults.

Responsible adults.

Efficient adults.

Productive adults.

And in the process, we accidentally leave parts of ourselves in the attic.

Not lost.

Just forgotten.

Perhaps growing older is not about becoming someone new.

Perhaps it is about climbing the stairs and bringing a few precious things back down.

The playful parts.

The hopeful parts.

The creative parts.

The parts that still have dreams.

🔑

If you could bring one thing back down from your attic, what would it be?