Day 12

I spent most of the day with family.

I’m so much more present lately (lol) with the people I love and care about. I can’t really explain the shift. It’s not like I’m intentionally trying to be more present. I just am.

Transformation is kind of like that.

Sure, sometimes there can be a single breakthrough where life changes before our eyes, but I’ve found that it’s often far more subtle and gradual. One day you find yourself living differently.

You find yourself in a situation that’s familiar, yet your experience of it is unfamiliar.

You show up differently.
You respond instead of react.
You no longer have the same thought patterns.
You make a different choice, without even trying to.

And sometimes it takes those moments to realize how far you’ve come and how much you’ve healed and expanded.

Like today.
I’ve spent plenty of time with family before, but today I saw everyone in a new way.
I was so immersed in the present that I lost sense of time.

I went to the farmers’ market with my mother and grandfather, and made them breakfast afterward. And I was captivated by how special it all was.

I watched the French Open with my dad like I knew it could be the first and last time we did that together.

I played with my niece and nephew for hours in the pool like I knew they won’t always want to play in the pool with their Uncle Zack.

I celebrated my stepmother’s birthday like I knew there are only so many birthdays and we never know which one will be our last.

It’s not that these realizations occupied my mind. I wasn’t consciously thinking about the temporality of these experiences. They were more like truths that quietly enveloped each moment, the way air doesn’t need to be acknowledged to be breathed.

A friend of mine was just writing to me about how distressing he found life’s inevitable ends. These realizations can be met with resistance, but I find them far more helpful.

To me, they are invitations.

These sort of realizations compel me to enjoy every moment while it’s here, because those moments come and go, and some go for good.

And it’s in the ephemeral nature of this human experience—the fleeting moments, the turning of tides, the change of seasons, the shifting winds—that I find so much reverence for life and every breath feels like it’s nourishing my soul.

The transience of life invites me to connect with the eternity of my essence.

I do not fear loss. I do not fear change. I do not fear death.

I simply wish to fully embrace and experience this moment while it’s here.