Typically, there is one day a year that I find myself reflecting on the last 365 that have passed me by. And, each year that day seems to creep up on me out of the blue.
So often I plea for life to slow down, and yet, it never does. I fill my heart with gratitude everyday I am blessed enough to wake up and place my feet on the ground. Some don't have the luxury of truly living. Occasionally, babies don't make it passed the first few months of development, some children don't receive the opportunity to receive their high school diploma. Some never get the chance to see their babies have babies.
Somewhere along the lines, I stopped counting years to equate how long I've been alive in a simplistic form, a beating heart and a functioning respiratory system. Instead, I count my life by the adventures I've embarked upon, each stamp I have been issued in my passport, each photograph, each laugh, or each meal I've shared (ok, ok, meals I have devoured). One day, my legs might not work anymore, or, maybe, my brain will start to deteriorate and I won't be able to recognize where I am. For as many ways as there are to live, there are just as many ways to die; all at once or minute by minute. So, while I am able bodied and mentally healthy, I choose to not wait for a "next time," or a "someday I will....," instead, I embrace the adventure I call life, and, I figure out how to make it work. Because one day, I will take my last breath, and all I will have to leave this world with, is a reflection of each moment that I have lived my truest life.
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