Golden.

Isn't it funny how the older we get, the more we seem to appreciate the gift of our youth? When I was 10, I often dreamed about what it would be like to be in my 20s—the trips I'd take, places I'd live, and people I'd meet along the way. Back then, adulting seemed like a wonderful fantasy — I just forgot to also calculate the bills, responsibilities, and inevitable heartbreaks. 

Now, over twenty years later, I sometimes think back to my 10-year-old self and wish I could warn her to just live and enjoy the present moment. It's work I'm still learning to do today.
 
Truth be told, this season of my life has forced me to reckon and reconcile with two very different women. One being the woman I am, and the other being the woman I thought I'd be at this point. 

Throughout my 20s, I accomplished many things I never thought I would: I wrote books, lived abroad, formed lifelong friendships, and discovered a deeper sense of faith and grounding throughout it all. Yet, despite that list, there is also so much I didn't see happen within my 20s — dreams unrealized, failed relationships, and many unmet goals and expectations. 
 
There's so much rhetoric around what one is "supposed" to have accomplished by the time they reach certain benchmarks, and when I'm not careful, those lofty ideas can quickly become unwelcomed distractions. Time has taught me that this feeling is not singular to women in their 20s and 30s. Not at all. Insightful conversations with older, wiser, more experienced individuals have allowed me to see that we all carry our own baggage surrounding the validity of our met and unrealized dreams. 

So, what's a person to do? How do we make peace with the people we are as a means to make room for the people we are to become? I'm not sure there's just one answer. So, as a personal practice, I've begun studying the lives of people around me who inspire me. Some of these individuals I know well, like my grandmother, mentors, and friends. Many others, I don’t know, like the legendary musical artist, Jill Scott. 

In 2004, Jill Scott released one of her most famous musical anthems, “Golden.” 

The lyrics state: 
"I'm taking my freedom. 
Pulling it off the shelf. 
Putting it on my chain. 
Wear it around my neck. 
I'm taking my freedom. 
Putting it in my car. 
Wherever I choose to go 
It will take me far. 
I'm livin' my life like it's golden." 
        
This idea of living a golden life is quite fascinating to me. On one end, it challenges me to consider my own definition of gold, and on the other, it forces me to consider what makes something golden in the first place. 

It's a retired metaphor at this point, but do you know how diamonds are made? Pressure and heat. Diamonds don't arrive at their majestic appearance or high value by happenstance; instead, they are intentionally placed in extreme yet purposeful circumstances. The same is true for us.

When I think back on the intensity of my life thus far — both the highs and the lows, the achievements and the setbacks, I can't help but notice the hand of God graciously leading me through moments of high pressure and high heat, perhaps as a means to make me stronger, wiser, and more prepared for what He has in store for me.

When I look back on the last 31 years of my life, I can see that my wins kept me alert and expectant, my disappointments kept me hungry and humble, and my seasons of waiting forced me to learn to trust the ways and will of God.

Now, that all sounds a lot more beautiful than it actually felt, but the undeniable truth is that life is always going to hold a great deal of beauty and brokenness. So, what if we chose to see each day as another opportunity for a new revelation? What if we chose to remember that the hard moments in life don't have to define us but can transform us? What if we dared to believe that every circumstance, no matter how striking or tragic, is actually leading us to become even stronger in the process? 

Because here's the thing, when Jill Scott said, “I’m living my life like it's golden,” I think she was talking about more than just the noticeably magic-filled moments. I think she was also talking about the day-to-day experiences that make up our human existence — the chores and conversations, the grief and celebrations. 

Living life like it's golden is as much a call to action as it is a metaphor. It's a reminder for us all to take charge of the beauty and the brokenness in our world. So, the next time you feel a little behind or a little unsure, I challenge you to also take Jill Scott at her word.  You might just find that you’re already living a golden life.  

Happy Thursday!