I’m here for my mother on this blog. Prepare for a longer post than necessary.
^ _ ^
~ Nicci
To live like you were dying.
To make the most of what you have.
To live, really live.
It is one thing to say it, repeat it, conjure the words with a smile and a nod. Quotations, novels, inspirational speeches. But how many of us really follow through with this typical ‘good advice’? How many times did we not say what we needed to? How many things did we push off and never get around to? How many things did we wish we had time for? How many things did we regret and not apologize for?
What does it mean to live like you were dying? Does it mean doing a long, wacky list of activities that you always thought sounded exciting?
Is it leaving behind someone who negatively influences your life?
Is it speaking up against something you know isn’t right?
Is it facing your fears? Accepting them?
What does it mean to really live? To love? To be loved? To love another? To love yourself?
Does making the most of what you have mean accepting something, or being happy with it? Do we ever learn the difference between contentment and bliss?
Life is short, they say. Life is complicated, they say. All the optimistic, catchy phrases of the world won’t buy you another second. This time, don’t sit and worry about how you are going to do what you need to. This time, you need to trust. Yourself, others, or maybe you need to stop trusting a little. The ups and downs of the universe can never be stated in a simple poem, song, or quote. Life is everything you have right now. It is all that matters right now. We cling to it, we desire it, we neglect it, we tarnish it.
Live like you were dying. And that doesn’t mean racing up a mountain or clinging for dear life on the back of a crazed animal. Those things mean something to that person. But for you, and for me, it is a metaphorical beast we ride. You have a decision to make. Tomorrow, next week. Before the next hour rises. Make the one you see best, and don’t be ashamed of who you were made to be. Love is half of life. Death is the other portion that is undiscovered.