If there is one thing I could tell my younger self, it would be to label things. Sometimes not having a label is a blessing and sometimes it's a curse. There have been mementos from my childhood that I kept for some reason and rediscovered them 20 years later. I look at them and I think, “What is this? Why did I keep this? What did it mean to me?” There’s no label and if I can’t remember what it was I usually get rid of it. These things are usually some kind of ephemeral thing that is easy to let go of. In these cases, not having a label can sometimes make it easier to let them go. And just as often, I also find labeled things of this nature and decide it’s time to let go of them since they don’t hold as much meaning to me as they once did. However, the vast majority of time I regret that I didn’t label something. There are things I find that I end up racking my brain trying to remember what they are and why I kept them; I agonize over it for days, sometimes weeks. Even worse thou...