“Be in love with your life. Every minute of it.” When Jack Kerouac’s assertion popped up in my Instagram feed last week I was quick to Tweet this to my followers as words to live by. When I look closer at the comments tagged to this graphic, I am a little startled by the amount of skepticism and negativity this idea generates, a fair number of people finding this request unrealistic. It makes me think there aren’t enough of us out there believing that we control our happiness.
A fifty-one year old man I know suffered a stroke last week. As I talk to friends about his situation I find that buried beneath the disbelief and concern we express, the good thoughts and prayers we channel on his behalf, each one of us can’t ignore the gnawing feeling that this could happen to us. As one friend put it, we’re getting to “that age” now where health problems are more likely to hit us, where the wicked pace of stressful lives led ignoring our own human needs manifests itself, our bodies finally screaming back in revolt. Those who have neglected themselves to make room for more hours at the office cranking out work, at home operating households and caring for loved ones are kicking themselves for such short-sightedness; or having managed to somehow squeeze self-care into the equation we’re all still awakened into the awareness that the chamber with the bullet could hit us whether we’ve exercised vigilance or not.
Days filled with quotas, deadlines, demands to innovate, improve or raise the bar bleed into nights full of chores, chauffeuring, and coaching our children, preparing them for ascension into our self-created bedlam, ready to assume our same pandemonium-filled existence. Do we truly love every minute of this life? Not if we can never find time to live it on our own terms.
We all have obligations to fulfill; there is no escaping this truth. Bills need to be paid, children need to be raised, a certain level of good stewardship and social and fiscal responsibility is necessary. But if you’re going to love your life, you need to believe that you have the right to manage your obligations. You need to assert your right to say no and to set boundaries and limits. You need to say out loud what makes you happy and make time for what you enjoy. Your loved ones can’t possibly know what you enjoy if they never see you enjoying it. My belief is that the real you can’t possibly surface when you’re buried beneath commitments and responsibilities dictated by others. Resentment wicks deep into your soul if you let it. And if you’re not careful, you can forget what there is to love about life.
Life is full of the good and the not so good. Loving every minute of your life doesn’t mean that it’s rosy all of the time. Kerouac’s words mean this to me: When we make a concerted effort to make time on a regular basis for activities that make us happy, even if, especially if, they feel superfluous, gratuitous or decadent, we find it easier to see the good when we’re living through the not so good; hence, loving every minute of life.
The debilitating illness of someone near should not be our call to action. We need to be thinking about personal happiness every day. As my friend shared with me his own regrets about his lack of work life balance, it gave me reason to pause to consider the progress I’ve made in this area. Are there still things I’d like to accomplish in this life? Absolutely. But if it did all end tomorrow, I could feel good about the direction I’m moving. I’ve elevated my personal goals to a level of importance that is equal to my career. I’m saying no and not feeling guilty about it. I’ve stopped expecting loved ones to be telepathic, and instead make it known what constitutes fun in my book by actually doing what I love. My friends and family know what makes me happy. I would argue that it’s just not that hard to love your own life when you make your life your own.
We’re all going to perish. This might sound harsh, but it’s undeniable. We are as beautiful, unique, raw and ephemeral as fresh produce, yet many of us find ourselves living the bland, common, artificial and packaged lives of processed foods believing we have an infinite shelf life. Don’t wait for devastation to hit another before considering your own plight. Your life has been yours for the taking, all along. You can be in love with it, every minute of it, when you make it yours to love.
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