How I Solved Time Travel (As a Kid)

(this piece is written by our founder, Kevin Knox)

When I was a kid, I had a kind of superpower.

I’d have a dream—something big.
Play in the majors.
Fly a fighter jet.
Become a dad. A speaker. A leader.

Not tomorrow dreams.
Someday dreams.
The kind that require time, effort—
and growing into someone new.

Anyway, here's the superpower:
I’d find a quiet spot.
Sit real still.
Close my eyes tight.
Clench my fists.
And then I'd whisper to myself:

“From now to then.”

That phrase became a portal—
a bridge between who I was
and who I imagined I could become.

And then the shift would happen.

For ten minutes—sometimes more—
I’d become him.
The future version of me.
The one who’d already made it.

I’d take the swings.
Do the drills.
Think the thoughts.
From now to then.

Turns out, there’s a name for this.

Psychologists call it mental contrasting—
imagining what you want,
then holding it up against where you are.
That friction creates energy.
It moves you forward.

It’s also called episodic future thinking—
your brain’s way of pre-living what hasn’t happened yet.
And when the vision is vivid enough,
it doesn’t just inspire you.
It rewires you.*

It sharpens your decisions.
It pulls you toward action.
It keeps you anchored in moments that might otherwise overwhelm you.
And it builds belief—not just in the outcome,
but in your role in making it real.

That’s what I was doing—
even if I didn’t know the science.

And here’s the thing:
I’m still that kid.
Still imagining.
Still stretching toward what could be.

No, I didn’t make the majors.
Didn’t fly the jet.
But the other dreams?
Many of them came true.

Because that phrase—
“From now to then”—
wasn’t just a wish.
It was a practice.
A way of seeing.
A way of becoming.

I still return to it—
especially when doubt creeps in,
and the future feels far. 

And you?
The version of you you're chasing?
They’re not out there.
They’re built here—
in this breath.
This rep.
This choice.

So close your eyes if you need to.
Picture what could be.
Then open them—
and take the step.

From now to then.
 

*Oh, and by the way, if you try this: you wouldn’t be the first.

Muhammad Ali declared himself “The Greatest” long before the world agreed.
In his mind, he’d already won—each round, each punch, each cheer of the crowd.

Michael Phelps trained his mind like he trained his body.
He rehearsed races until even his setbacks were scripted.
When his goggles filled with water in the Olympic final,
he didn’t panic.
He followed the plan.
He’d already been there.

Oprah interviewed herself in the mirror as a teenager.
She imagined the lights, the applause, the sound of her name.
Long before she had a show, she believed in a future no one else could see.

These weren’t daydreams.
They were rehearsals.
They were acts of becoming.

So if you’re picturing a version of yourself that doesn’t exist yet—
You’re not lost.
You’re on your way.