Last week, I did something I haven’t done since I was 16:
I went on a trip with just my dad and my sister.

The permutations of marriage, divorce, new family constellations and various offspring just made it so that we haven’t hung out just the three of us for more than a meal here or there for over twenty years.

I find that there’s rarely a convenient time to carve out space for the people we hold closest to our hearts. But carve out the time, we must, because in the end, it’s all that really matters.

We went to NYC to see two Broadway shows my dad had on his list.

We were discussing the first show, the revival of Merrily We Roll Along, over breakfast the next morning and something came out of my mouth that has kept repeating in my mind for the last week.

What prompted it is that the show is a funny and also chilling commentary on time, possibilities, and the choices we make that limit said possibilities as we get older.

As we chatted over eggs and coffee about the bright-eyed idealism of being young and how many of us narrow what we think we get to dream of as we get older, I said:

“A small slice of infinity is still a lot.”

The show leaves the audience to fill in how the story ends because it works backwards chronologically, answering the question posed at the beginning about the lead character Frank and what happened to his life:

“How did you ever get there from here?”

Just like the lead in Merrily We Roll Along, none of the lives of the three of us sitting around the breakfast table have turned out exactly as we’d imagined.

(I would imagine you can relate.)

There are some dreams that simply aren’t gonna be this time around. (I probably won’t be a backup dancer on a major pop tour, for example.)

But even though the years and our decisions (or indecision) narrow our future possibilities, the truth is…a small slice of infinity is still a lot.

In any moment, anything can happen. We could meet someone today who completely changes the trajectory of our lives. We could start a project tomorrow that expands our horizons beyond our wildest imaginings. We could say yes or no to something the day after tomorrow that opens a new door we didn’t even know existed.

Getting on the plane, submitting the book proposal, showing up at the live event, making that hire, taking that course, or finally getting your butt to dance class (talking to myself now) opens up a whole array of avenues that didn’t exist the moment before you said “Yes!” to yourself and your dreams.

I choose to believe it’s never too late for any of us.

I choose to believe the world continues to be our oyster until the moment our heart stops beating…and even that moment is an expansion into a reality beyond anything we could possibly fathom.

I choose to believe in infinity for any and all of us.

Even if we’ve screwed up.

Even if we have regrets.

Even if we’ve had to put some dreams to bed.

Even if we have debt (or Invoices for Blessings Already Received, as I like to call it.)

Even if our hearts are heavy with the grief of what could have been.

Even if we think we’re too old.

Even if we’re scared.

It’s never too late.

Even if our possibilities aren’t as infinite as they were the day we were born, or the day we turned 20, a small slice of infinity really is still a lot.

I’m rooting for you, per usual ;)

Love,
Kate