What is a life?
I doubt my opinion matters much to most, but nonetheless, I sit alone on a Sunday afternoon contemplating this very difficult question. Katherine left to go back to Georgia a few minutes ago, and despite my promise to be all smiles as I let her go, I cried (and still cry) like a little baby. But, in my sorrow comes a certain appreciation for what life is and what it means.
What is a life?
I asked Katherine this—and she said, “I don’t know baby. To me life is happiness with you. To others, they define it as work or family or money. I can’t generalize life. It is what people make it to be.”
Though she correct, I find myself thinking, “What does my life mean to me?”
To me it’s about this:
The fearlessness to love, and be hurt and aspire to better. To show people compassion and inspire people to care.
Life is short. I don’t think people get this. It’s minuscule—tiny—microscopic. And, even within that microscopic instance of living—your life could still be cut shorter. I don’t mean to be morbid nor do I mean to scare, but I want people asking these questions more often.
At this moment, I am living the life I want. I love without fear. I hurt because I care. I work to better myself always. And, hopefully, my actions will inspire others to live the life they want.
So, I sit alone on a Sunday afternoon. It hurts and I cry because I knew what it felt to have the person I love beside me…hugging and laughing with me. I will be judged by some for my lack of resolve, but despite them, I will cry until I’m ready not too.
What is a life?
It’s yours. It is full of love, heartache, tears, laughter, joy, sillyness, fun and happiness. It is what you make it.
Kat, in her infinite carefree state, taught me this. I dedicate this post to her. I will smile for the time I had and will look forward to February when she is teaching me about what life is all about again.
