A boy I went to school with used to always talk about dinosaurs.
I vividly remember him telling anyone who would listen about how the Tyrannosaurus Rex and Stegosaurus were never on the planet together. They were, in fact, separated by millions of years.*
*Turns out, we’re closer to being alive at the same time as the T-Rex than the T-Rex was to the Stegosaurus.
At the time, I thought the boy was a nerd. He had very little interest in sport or looking cool in the classroom.
Now I know, he was in fact the coolest person in the room.
He was shamelessly passionate about dinosaurs. He was brazen in his attempts to share this passion with others, and seemingly unconcerned with how it made him look to the rest of us.
All of which are characteristics I now seek out in people.
In his own way, he transcended the culture of the schoolyard. He was unapologetically himself in the hellscape that is the micro-society of the classroom.
That is something I’ve grown up to respect immensely.
But it’s not just about him.
There’s a lesson in how he acted in school.
He was fearless in his existence.
He refused to let the expectations of others dim his enthusiasm or dictate his choices.
It’s a reminder that we all have the power to rise above the pressures of fitting in, to transcend the culture and society that so often tries to define us.
By following our passions, by being unapologetically ourselves, we can live in a way that feels true, regardless of what the world demands of us.
In many ways, the world feels like it’s becoming more unstable and dangerous.
And yet, in the face of these crises, we distract ourselves.
We chase status, productivity, and endlessly scroll, all of which are systems we’ve built to keep us busy, but disconnected from what truly matters.
The boy in my school didn’t care about any of that.
Dinosaurs were his passion, yes, but they also offered a profound lesson, one that made him see the world in a way most of us never did.
Through his fascination, he tapped into something timeless, a reminder of how vast the story of life really is.
Dinosaurs serve as markers of just how fleeting our place in history might be, and yet, they connect us to a perspective far greater than ourselves.
And that’s the lesson I took from him.
The world we’ve built can make us feel like it’s all that matters.
But it’s not.
Dinosaurs remind us of the sheer vastness of time, the fragility of existence, and the impermanence of everything we take so seriously.
Think again of the meme of the dinosaurs looking up at an asteroid and saying, “Oh god, the economy?”.
Isn’t that exactly what we do?
We distract ourselves with the immediate, the fleeting, the things society tells us to care about, while the bigger picture fades into the back of our mind. The asteroid continues to loom overhead.
What if we took a step back instead?
What if, like the boy in my class, we all let go of the need to fit in, the need to conform to what’s expected, and instead lived with fearless authenticity?
What if we pursue our passions, embrace our individuality, and start to look at the world from a higher vantage point?
I’m not talking about ignoring the challenges we face.
It’s about confronting them with clarity and with our own unique perspective.
By rising above the noise of the moment, we can seek true meaning in the face of uncertainty.
We can reconnect with what makes us human, not what makes us important.
So, as we head into 2025, don’t forget the dinosaurs.
Don’t forget that asteroid.
And most importantly, don’t forget to live brazenly, authentically, and remember what truly matters.
When you acknowledge that there is nothing repulsive or unforgivable or shameful about yourself, it becomes easier to be that authentic person and feel like you’re living a less performed life.
John Green