I started thinking a long time ago that I would like to die on my hundredth birthday. It just seems like the right amount of time to enjoy life and then move on to Heaven. And so I plan on it.
Somedays, it seems like I will not get to everything I ever wanted to do...like visit all 50 states, learn to speak several languages, have an amazing career, become an excellent cook.
And somedays, it seems like I have enough time to do whatever I want, and then there are hours left over.
No matter how I feel, a choice is always there. How am I going to be in this moment today? How am I going to live in this moment today?
I love that each day I get to be who I want to be. That I get to choose how I want to be. And that even when I feel swept away by depression, sadness, lonliness, anger, insecurity, I still have a chance to reach out and grab on to the rock that is my stability...the choice to hold on, turn things around, and find joy where it was invisible before.
Each day I have a chance to be who I want to be. I am forty-one. I plan on dying on my one-hundredth birthday. I have fifty-nine more years of life to live. And I get to choose how to live them.
