We do know that to be alive is to age, and aging is inherently a losing proposition to which we must surrender, with grace or not.
Never again will we entertain this tyranny that wears a thousand divisive masks but is always a scared and greed-scarred child-man hiding behind a curtain.
Our choices define us and create our legacy. So choose wisely. First for your own happiness, and then for your neighbor's. Choice is freedom realized.
Longings have a way of garnering our attention, even when we don't always want them, or know what to do with them. They will be there. Like a toddler who doesn't want to just be shushed and sent to bed, they will make themselves known.
A deliciously alive, broken open heart is a revolution. And it is what you are for, as a human being. Your torn open and glistening heart is a wild, throbbing portal to aliveness, to living a life with your own freaky artistry. Imagine that.
I decided if my prognosis was to be believed, I felt I needed to try and pack as much life into those 18 months as possible. My calendar filled with dinners, parties, concerts and Sunday brunches. When weeks turned to months, my body became stronger and I became bolder. I added traveling to the ...