I grew up in the shadow of Disneyland*. My cousins and friends and I would visit frequently, because I was fortunate enough to have access to free tickets. Disneyland is part of many childhood and family memories. Growing older, I began to see a trip to Disneyland as a metaphor for life. “DisneyEarth”, I sometimes called it. A day at Disneyland can be a surprisingly elegant teacher!
Imagine arriving at Disneyland, the gates open wide to a world of endless possibilities. The air is electric with music, the chatter of families, and the distant hum of rides beckoning you from every direction. You step inside, wide-eyed, full of anticipation, not entirely sure where to begin but thrilled by the promise of adventure.
This is life at its start: fresh, exciting, and brimming with potential. Like a child rushing toward their first ride, we’re drawn to what excites us most, our enthusiasm spilling out in every direction. Some attractions captivate us so completely that we go back for another turn—relationships that enrich us, passions that ignite us, experiences that thrill us. Others, we might try once and decide they aren’t for us—jobs, situations, or risks that don’t feel right or perhaps feel too overwhelming.
And just like Disneyland, life moves forward, moment by moment. The sun rises higher in the sky, the hours slip past, and suddenly, the journey begins to look different.
At the start of the day, there’s no time to waste. You sprint to the biggest rides, the iconic ones everyone talks about. Your adrenaline is high, your energy boundless. You can’t imagine ever slowing down or running out of time.
But after a few rides, a few twists, and a few turns, you begin to notice the quieter attractions, the hidden corners of the park. Maybe it’s a small garden tucked away from the crowds or a little ice cream stand serving up the perfect scoop on a warm day. These moments, not as loud or flashy, start to feel just as meaningful as the big thrills.
This is life in its middle. The frantic energy of youth gives way to a deeper appreciation for subtleties. We realize the value of balance—the thrill of the coasters paired with the peace of simply walking through the park, hand in hand with someone we love. We begin to understand that the journey isn’t just about conquering every mountain but about soaking in the magic around us, big or small.
As the day wears on, you start to feel it: your feet ache, the lines seem longer, the sun feels hotter. You’ve hit that mid-afternoon slump. Life, too, has these moments—the periods where energy wanes, where the path forward feels harder than it once did.
But just as Disneyland has ice-cold lemonade, shaded benches, and re-entry to exciting attractions, life offers its own ways to reset. Whether it’s reconnecting with a forgotten passion, spending time with loved ones, or simply allowing yourself a break, these moments help you recharge for what’s still to come.
Because, even as you rest, the day isn’t over yet.
The sun starts to set, casting the park in a golden light. The crowds thin out, the thrill rides slow down, and Main Street comes alive with twinkling lights and music that feels both nostalgic and bittersweet.
You know the day is nearing its end. The energy that was once boundless has softened, but there’s still a deep, rich joy in strolling the streets, taking in the beauty of the moment. It’s a different kind of happiness—quieter, more reflective.
This is life as we move toward its later chapters. It’s easy to think the best moments are behind us, that the thrill of the roller coasters has given way to a quieter, less vibrant existence. But in reality, this time is its own kind of magic. It’s when we can pause and look back at the day—at all the choices we made, the rides we braved, and the moments we shared—and feel a deep sense of fulfillment.
And then, just like that, the announcement comes: the park is closing soon. This moment, unavoidable and certain, is no longer far in the future. It’s here, and it’s real.
But even as the end approaches, the question isn’t whether you can stay longer—it’s what you’ll do with the time you have left. Will you grab a last ride, savor your favorite treat, or simply walk slowly down Main Street, soaking in the magic one last time?
Life, too, offers us this choice. When the end feels near, it’s easy to think the best moments are over, that nothing remains but an anticlimactic stroll toward the exit. But that’s only true if we let it be. The final moments can be some of the richest, the most meaningful—if we’re willing to fully embrace them.
The truth is, life, like a day at Disneyland, is finite. That’s what makes it so precious. Knowing the park will close makes every moment in it more meaningful. It reminds us to savor the laughter, the thrill, the quiet beauty, and even the challenges.
Some rides will scare us. Some will bore us. And some will make us laugh until we cry. But every single one shapes the experience of the day. Life, too, is a mosaic of emotions, experiences, and choices. Each piece, whether exhilarating or difficult, adds richness to the whole.
So here’s the lesson: don’t just live your life—experience it. Let yourself run toward the thrill rides, bask in the quiet corners, and take time to reset when the midday slump hits. Don’t let fear stop you from trying something new, and don’t cling so tightly to the past that you miss what’s still ahead.
And when the time comes to stroll down your own Main Street, let it be with a heart full of gratitude for the magic you’ve lived. Because even as the park closes, the memories, the lessons, and the joy you’ve found will remain yours forever.
So go ahead: squeeze every drop of joy from your day. The park is open, and the possibilities are endless.
Make it count.
*”Disneyland” is a trademarked name owned by The Walt Disney Company.
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