The Fire Within—A Letter From Marisa

Not too long ago, I had a conversation with a man in his mid-40s who told me he was "pretty much done with life." He wasn’t sick, nor was he going through some major crisis—he just felt like he’d done everything he was ever going to do. 

There was nothing new on the horizon, no great adventure left to chase. In his mind, his story had already been written, and he was just waiting for the pages to turn until the book closed.

That conversation unsettled me. I've always been hungry—for the street tacos on the side of the road in Mexico, sure, but more importantly, for life. For adventure. For the next big thing. 

I don’t understand how someone can lose their hunger for life. Maybe it’s because I’ve always had something burning inside of me, a fire that drives me forward.

I believe we’re all the writers of our own stories, and if you don’t pick up the pen, someone else—or worse, nothing at all—will write it for you. What is your human experience going to read like at the end?

That’s not to say it’s always easy. The best stories never are. If you’ve ever set your sights on something big, you know the road isn’t always smooth.