There’s a certain enchantment that envelops youth, a delicate spell that seems to stretch time into infinity, where the world appears vast and untouched. To be young is to live in the now, blissfully unaware of how fleeting it all is, because the future is merely a distant shore on the horizon, and tomorrow feels as intangible as a dream. And yet, the truth is undeniable—we’re only young once. By the time we realise the significance of it, the spell begins to wane, and youth slips from our grasp like sand through open fingers.
Youth is a time of unbridled joy, of laughing until your sides ache and staying up too late, lost in conversations that seem to solve the mysteries of the universe. It is a season of freedom, of mistakes made with the confidence that life’s map is still being drawn. We live as though the road is endless, believing that time is ours to command, and that our choices, no matter how impulsive, will always lead us somewhere interesting.
But time, relentless as it is, marches on without pause. At first, it moves gently, almost imperceptibly, before gaining speed like a train that has left the station. We start to feel its weight in the moments that once felt infinite—the summers that now seem shorter, the nights that fade too quickly into morning. The decisions we made without a second thought begin to form the architecture of our lives, and the carefree abandon of youth gives way to the gravity of responsibility. The roads that once diverged in every direction now seem narrower, and the thrill of endless possibility quietly fades into the background.
Yet, this is not a lament, nor should it be. Youth, in all its brilliance, was never meant to last. Like the fleeting warmth of a London summer, it is a season—a moment in time that we must cherish, then let go. For the very reason youth holds its beauty is its impermanence. If it were forever, it would lose its lustre, its urgency. To be young forever would rob youth of its essence, of the lessons learned and the growth that comes with moving beyond it.
"We’re only young once," they say. There is a certain wisdom in that phrase—a reminder not to grasp too tightly at the past, but to embrace the present and what is yet to come. The passing of youth is not something to mourn but something to be grateful for, because it is a time lived, not lost. Youth is not an endpoint, but a starting line. It is not the years that define us, but how we carry their spirit forward.
As we grow older, the enchantment does not vanish—it simply changes form. It becomes quieter, more reflective, yet no less profound. What was once the carefree joy of discovery turns inward, becoming a quest for understanding, a search for meaning. The curiosity and wonder that define youth do not fade; they evolve, becoming the foundation for a deeper appreciation of life. Where once we chased adventure, we now find satisfaction in the quiet moments, in the richness of thought, and in the wisdom gained from experience.
So, as the pages of life turn, let us remember youth not with a sense of loss, but with a sense of fulfilment. For although we are only young once, the gifts of youth endure, shaping us long after its days have passed. The fire of youth may burn brightly and briefly, but its warmth continues to guide us, casting light on the roads ahead.
In the end, we do not lose our youth—it lives on within us, not in the reflections of the mirror or the photos of days gone by, but in our capacity to remain curious, hopeful, and resilient. Youth may be a fleeting chapter, but its spirit is eternal, and its lessons, carried forward, make every stage of life richer, more profound, and infinitely more beautiful.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
