Last night, I drove down to the beach around sunset to do some reading and go for a walk.

I felt invigorated by the air moving through my body and burst into a run; the rays of the sun warmed my skin and at this moment — life, nature, existence, could be described as nothing but good.

I moved faster along the water’s edge, pushing my arms and legs to drive me with purpose upon the earth’s surface. This is the release I need to stay sane.

We all do in some capacity, for the sweat falling from my brow was the fear — the anxiety of everyday life.

Our fears are often irrational; yet the weight of existence is heavy — and we are only human.

Life feels like it’s moving impossibly fast and curiously slow. After the run I dove into the ocean like a jubilant pup, basking in its crisp, vivifying chill.

I’m being pulled in two directions: I can’t believe where time has gone; I look to the past; how is all of that life just a memory now? I don’t know how to make sense of it, yet it also feels like nothing’s changed.

A new chapter is dawning, one that will bring more learning and growth than I’ve ever experienced. It’s coming quick, and I don’t know if I’m ready.

I don’t even know what it means to be ready. But I feel something — a desire, a need to face my fears.

I’m afraid of dying, most of all, an irrational fear but a real one. It’s not that I’m afraid of physically dying, although of course that fear is there — I’m afraid to leave this world, because this world, despite the flaws of existence and the inadequacies comprised in each of us, is so good.

It’s too good, the feeling of the ocean and the sand — the simplicities of life such as love, friendship, nature — those mysterious aspects of being which sustain us and are boundless.

The sun dips below the distant mountain, changing the colors of the sky where there’s no more white light but an awakening of nebulous, purple darkness.

I fear leaving this world, but to abide by our fear is to live in a way that doesn’t justify our every breath. There must be life beyond this earthly one.

But while I’m here, I hope to experience the rich magnitude of what it means to be human — perhaps that’s impossible without faith.

“Faith,” writes psychologist Jordan Peterson in 12 Rules for Life, “is not the childish believe in magic. That is ignorance or even willful blindness. It is instead the realization that the tragic irrationalities of life must be counterbalanced by an equally irrational commitment to the essential goodness of being.”

Faith is the belief that what we’re doing now will make the untold future brighter.

It’s an undue trust in the unseen forces which compose the nature of being. It’s truly seeing our fellow human, because when we open our eyes, when we see one another, faults and all, we awaken the goodness of the human spirit fundamental to each of us.

Faith is the belief that pain is for a reason — that what we may experience now holds the key to future understanding.

Faith is the willingness, the courage, and the openness to face the world despite its dangers and the threat of the unknown.

As we roam the unknown, as we pay attention, we may realize that it contains more beauty than darkness, more love than hate. Possibility is spun from the web of chaos, if only we’re willing to confront it.

Faith is giving yourself to something without the guarantee of success.

There’s nothing but a desire to reach the unreachable, a need to break from where you are.

This world can be disheartening, unforgiving and cruel. Yet so often the world we see is formed from our imagination.

As Peterson says: “The tragic irrationalities of life must be counterbalanced by an equally irrational commitment to the essential goodness of being.”

Why can’t we believe that the best possible thing will happen? That it’ll all work out? That we’ll persevere through whatever life puts in front of us?

Why shouldn’t we manifest our own reality and live a life that’s based on hope, love, trust — faith.

This isn’t naïve; it’s vital.

The stars will notice as you reach for them. They will guide your steps, inspire your heart, and lift your spirits as you inevitably fall. That, to me, is a life worth living, one where every breath, every act, every dream, is justified.