Right now, you’re the oldest you’ve even been and the youngest you’ll ever be again.

As I write this, every second that passes is a tiny, irreversible fracture in the fabric of my existence. Actually, it’s every infinitesimal fraction of a second, every 0.00…1 moment, where I am both older than I’ve ever been and younger than I’ll ever be again. In fact, I’m experiencing this infinitely many times, like a cosmic strobe light flickering at the speed of reality itself.

In the span of 60 seconds, I will have lived through approximately 60 of these moments, but if we zoom in, it’s more like 60,000 milliseconds, or 60,000,000 microseconds, or 60,000,000,000 nanoseconds. Each one is a snapshot of my existence, a frame in the infinite film reel of my life. My heart will have beaten about 60 times, my lungs will have cycled 12 breaths, and my brain will have processed roughly 600 trillion neural firings, all while I’m infinitely oscillating between being the oldest and youngest version of myself.

Even as I type, I’m aware that each 0.00…1 second is a universe unto itself, a moment where I am simultaneously decaying and becoming, growing and shrinking, living and dying.

As you read this, you’re experiencing your own infinite cascade of "oldest and youngest" moments, each one a fleeting, irreplaceable fragment of your existence. Your cells are dividing, your atoms are vibrating, and your consciousness is weaving a story that will never be told exactly the same way again.