This week I heard the really sad news about the death of a woman that I may have met once or twice or maybe more or maybe not at all. I know her name, and I'm straining to remember her face other than how I've seen in pictures. She was young. She died in her sleep.
When we let go and stop trying to force our days to bend to our stubborn wills, the moments that make our days worthy of remembering will find us, and if we are willing and ready, they will seize us, enrapturing us in its loving grip.
On two separate occasions this past weekend, I purposely left my smartphone at home. While I admit the initial motivation came because I didn't want a large bump in my tight-fitting suit, the benefits turned out to be far greater than the contour of my torso.
There is no "right" way to seize your youth, as everyone's path is different. You are as young as you'll ever be in this very moment, so whatever age you are, don't just seize the day, seize your youth.
None of us know our 2.0 and are just trying to figure it out. I change my plan every day. Oprah says everyone of us is looking for the same thing - we want to know we matter! And everyone has a story to tell, I just may not know mine yet.
Huffington said, "Life is part making things happen and part letting things happen." I thought that was such a great way to look at life. To remind the obnoxious, never satiated, type A part of my being that sometimes you just had to enjoy life and let the seeds you've planted circle back to you.
And so it is: I am officially 30 years young. Yes, I use the word young instead of old, contrary to my previous belief that once I turned the big 3-0, life as I had known it prior to this milestone would never be the same again. Period.
I didn't exactly know what to do with my dad's Elantra. So I drove. I got in the car and took my first independent road trip. It was the only thing I could do to both honor my dad and escape the overwhelming pain and death at home.
That we are dust is a reminder that our lives are fragile, and that the lives and hearts of those around us are as well. So we must tread lightly and walk joyously, spreading love for hate, peace for rancor, and healing for a world which is all too wounded.
Last weekend I was taking some photos of my cousin's kids. We just happened to be on a farm with brand new kittens prancing around in all their kitten cuteness and the kids were absolutely eating it up. It was perfect.
George's decision thwarts Mr. Potter's greedy attempts to control Bedford Falls, and improves the lives of George's family and friends. But what is the cost to George and the rest of us when we let our heart's desire wither and die?
In classical mythology, nectar is the divine food of the Gods, an ambrosia conferring immortality on anyone lucky enough to happen upon it. Living "in the nectar" is a metaphor for existing in that sublime state where you feel most joyous and alive.
I realized also that I wasn't alone in my co-dependency. Everywhere I went, I saw travelers with massive cameras dangling around their necks, snapping photo after photo after photo, seemingly disengaged from the very experiences they were obsessed with remembering.
It is hard to shake the feeling that comes with thinking that you were almost killed. But despite being physically weaker, I have become mentally tougher. Each and every day I make a concerted effort to stay in the moment. I listen more intently to people. I use love to guide me through each day.