Absolutely. I don’t take any day—any moment for granted. If you’re not living every day like it’s your last, you’re not living. I may hug my kids a little longer, a little tighter than I should, but I don’t ever regret it. I greet them every single morning with a smile and a hug. I make sure no matter what is going on in life—no matter how bad I feel, exhausted, tired, and run down—that they see me happy and smiling, ready to take on the day. I have my moments, believe me, but I want my kids to see life as something beautiful. I make sure we laugh every single day—that there is space for silliness and joy—the spontaneous dance party, milkshake, day off, movie night, Justin Bieber concert. I make sure we watch, listen, and read things that infuse joy and hope into our lives. And I don’t care how busy I am, how many events we have to get to each night, or how many deadlines I have, we eat together every single night—no television, no music, no distractions. I know from my own experience (my mother was big on mealtime bonding) that these are the moments my kids will always remember: All of us together—laughing, talking and being a family. I try to make sure I surround myself with beauty—beautiful souls—my kids, my husband, my sisters, my brothers, my parents, my nieces and nephews, my best friends; beautiful places—my home, my garden, my favorite spaces (bookstores, art galleries, parks); and beautiful things—flowers, clothes, artwork, my kids’ drawings and creations. I don’t sweat the small stuff—petty arguments, politics, haters (bullies, critics), money. Somehow, the bills get paid, and no one who has an opinion on my life has to LIVE my life—so I don’t care what anyone else thinks about how I live my life. It’s not their life to live: It’s mine. It’s a funny thing: when you focus on living your life right, you don’t have much time to make judgments on how anyone else lives. So I spend less time judging, less time being angry, annoyed, bitter, and more time trying to understand, give, and love.
|Courtesy Google Images|
Without a doubt—I’d hightail it to the quietest, least inhabited, hottest, white sandy, blue water beach on the planet. I’d bring a bag full of books—my old standbys and the stack of books I haven’t gotten to yet that having sitting beside my bed for months, and I’d park myself on a beach chair and read, read, read. I’d occasionally get up to get into the water—and maybe sip a cocktail with an umbrella, but mostly I’d sit and be still. It would be lovely. Actually, I feel better just thinking about it.