Upon the death of a dear friend, I began thinking about the nature of life and death. Death brings my feet back to earth. My mom has often accused me of having my head in the clouds, and I readily admit it.

But losing my friend brought me crashing back down. I’ll admit that I’ve been a bit morbid over the past few weeks, since her passing, because it has come to my attention that we are all going to die. There is no other way out of here.

During the celebration of life for my friend, several people spoke of her generosity, her love of animals, her quirky nature. Many kind things were spoken then, and I thought what a beautiful tribute.

But wouldn’t it be better if we could share those kind thoughts with our friends before they die? Wouldn’t it be better to tell our loved ones how much we appreciate them, while they are still living?

Kind words are like a soothing balm to the soul. No matter what a person is going through, the kind words of friends and loved ones can calm the fires of rage, anger, or fear.

So why wait? I have said, on numerous occasions, that I plan to live to 111. I realize that by then, many of my friends and family will likely be gone. They will have gone on before me, to whatever awaits our physical death.

By then, I wonder who will eulogize me. I wonder who will be present to remember the remarkable life of an old woman, who outlived those who could speak of her life. So, the way I see it, I have two choices. I can live a remarkable life for the following 64 1/3 years, and make sure to make an impression on everyone I meet, hoping that someone will live long enough to remember me.

That is Plan B. That plan involves a lot of work, a lot of community involvement, and making friends of all ages. While that does seem like a fun way to progress through life, it also seems like a lot of work. Of course, I plan to do it anyway. Far be it from me to shy away from hard work and perseverance.

But, I have a better plan. My go to plan is to throw a big party. I’m not waiting until I’m dead to have a party. I’m going to have a party and invite all of my friends, and we will gather and talk about the beauty of life, the beauty of love and friendship. I plan to have that party when I am 55. I’m going to call it my “halfway there” party.

I plan to invite everyone I have ever known, to celebrate the gift of their presence in my life. I want to celebrate while I am still alive and cognizant. I want to thank people for their kindnesses and love, which have buoyed me through my life.

And my point, in all of this, is lets not wait. Let’s not wait to tell the people in our lives how much they mean, how much they bring, and how much they give us.

Tell them while there is still time. Once your friends are gone, it becomes too late to tell them how much you cherish them.

Of course, once people pass on, we can still speak of their goodness and kindness. It brings us together, it unites us when we face death, and it helps us heal from loss.

But so much better, is the idea of telling people of their impact and influence while it can help them.

It is never too late to tell someone how much they mean to you. If you don’t feel like saying it, then write them a note. You could even send an email. But don’t let the kind words go unspoken. Today is the perfect day to tell someone how much they mean.

Namaste, friends

I learn a lot from my kids, and sometimes if I’m lucky, they even learn a thing or two from me.

Recently, during a discussion with my 16-year-old daughter, I said, “Well, if I had my druthers, I’d rather you not.”

She looked at me skeptically, with the scorn and derision that seems second nature to teenagers.

“What does that even mean? I think you’re just making up words so I can’t do what I want.”

I confess. I do make up words. Sometimes I try to slip them into my columns, but Kae, the stalwart copy editor of the Uinta County Herald, never fails to find and delete them. Sometimes she looks at me as if I’m crazy. And sometimes she smiles sadly, shaking her head, as if talking to a small child.

But I digress. I explained the phrase “If I had my druthers” to my children, who still do not believe it is real. I guess my penchant for using fake words has tainted their view of me.

Technically, to have one’s druthers means to have ones own preference. It is a shortened version of the phrase “I’d rather,” and is not widely used outside of the United States. It’s a colloquialism to our part of the world. When I explained this to my young ‘uns, they all rolled their eyes, and wondered why a person wouldn’t just say, “I would rather,” and save all the confusion.

Upon further study and investigation, I discovered another meaning to druthers: the power or opportunity to choose.

It occurred to me then, that we can all have our druthers. We all have an opinion about how we would like things to be. Realistically, we can have our own preference, if we are willing to make the sacrifices necessary to achieve those things.

You can have your druthers, if you really want to.

Each one of us has the power and the opportunity to choose exactly how we want our life. Many of us, however, relinquish this power in order to embrace the victim mentality so prevalent in our culture. Rather than making our own choices and taking responsibility, we sit idly by, hating our lives and blaming someone else.

Oftentimes, blaming seems easier than responsibility. Victimhood feels more comfortable than choice. It’s easier to complain about things we don’t like, than to step up and make changes.

The good news is you do have the power and opportunity to choose. You can choose where to work, who to hang out with, where and what to eat, whether to exercise, where to live. The list goes on and on, but the truth is, you have complete choice over every aspect of your life.

I can hear some of you now saying, “That’s not true. I don’t have any choices. I don’t get to choose….” Well, unless you are a minor child, the truth is that you do have a choice.

You might not like the work or the responsibility involved in making a different choice, but you do have a choice. We are not victims of our life. We are authors of our destiny.

Today, you can choose to live exactly as you choose. You can choose freedom over bondage, peace over anger, and happiness over sorrow. You have the power and the opportunity to choose, in each moment, exactly what your life looks like.

If you don’t like the outcome, you are free to choose again. Remember, the effects of a decision stay in place until the decision is changed. If something doesn’t work for you, then you can change it.

Whatever you face today, remember that you can choose again. You are not a victim of your life. You are the creator of your life.

Namaste, friends

In the aftermath of chaos and holiday madness, I lost my phone. It wasn’t such a bad thing, really. I spent all of Christmas Day enjoying peace and quiet, unable to text and call. I even found time to take a nap.

As we began to filter through empty stockings, piles of paper and the remnants of Christmas, I discovered my forgotten phone, buried under the cheery rubble.

It was so nice not having it, I decided on the following day to just put the phone away.

Most of us are attached to our stuff. Our phones are always nearby. Our computers are nearby, ready to answer emails, check Facebook, and immerse us in online escapism.

Besides the electronic madness that controls our daily lives, we are surrounded by stuff. We are buried by more stuff than we can ever use in our lifetime, and our children will suffer after our passing, as they sort through all the stuff, wondering why we kept so much.

I was caring recently for a dear friend who has become quite ill. While sitting by her side, holding her hand, massaging her feet and reassuring her, I noticed that she was surrounded by stuff. Piles and piles of clothes, papers, knick-knacks and tchotchke. It was overwhelming, to think about her imminent passing and the responsibility of wading through all of that stuff.

When I got home after one particularly stressful day, I began sorting through my file drawers. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but I decided to look through every single piece of paper, and honestly assess the value and necessity of each.

Although I’m not a hoarder, I tend to hold on to special notes from people I love, as well as clippings and pictures from magazines. After a couple of hours, I was astonished at the pile of papers headed to the recycle bin. When I honestly looked at all those papers, it turned out that most of them were not essential to my daily life. Most of them had no real purpose, other than to keep my file cabinets brimming with paper.

With a proud sense of accomplishment, I closed the mostly empty file drawers and wondered for a moment why I need such a large file cabinet anyway. Now that it’s empty, it seems redundant. However, it does make a good television stand.

Although it was getting late, I was energized by all that purging and I began cleaning out my drawers.

It is amazing, how attached we can become to things like clothes. I had a closet full of clothes of a variety of different sizes. Some are too small, waiting in vain for me to lose just enough weight. Some are way too big, just in case I get fat. Some are from long ago, with emotional baggage attached. I began yanking clothes out of drawers, off of hangers and throwing them into a bag with reckless abandon.

It was freeing, to release so much stuff. Now, when I walk through the house, one eye is on what I can get rid of next.

I don’t want to die at 111, surrounded by junk. I want to be surrounded by people who love me. Most of the stuff we accumulate and refuse to part with has some emotional significance to us, but to no one else.

Instead of filling our lives with more and more stuff, perhaps we should acquire experiences. We don’t need more stuff. What we need is more love, more passion and more fun. When we fill our lives with experience, our need to be surrounded by belongings will diminish.

Namaste, friends

I used to love Bugs Bunny. One of my favorites was Marvin the Martian. He had an Acme Ray Gun, with which he would vaporize Daffy Duck. A classic line from Marvin the Martian, “Resistance is futile, earthling.”

During Tuesday’s snowstorm, I thought of those words often. I dressed for spring on Tuesday, in sandals and a skirt. Wrong outfit, wrong day.

Of course, I was too busy to run home and change as the day grew colder and the drizzle turned to snow. I decided to accept the weather and be thankful for the moisture. Resistance to the weather, or to just about anything else, is futile.

It never ceases to amaze me, how people will complain about things that cannot be changed, such as the weather.

Complaining never changed anything for the better. In fact, it never changed anything at all. It is futile to resist those things we can’t change. I would include the weather in that category, as well as the past, other people, and dogs.

You can’t change anything by complaining, and resisting what you can’t change is a waste of time and energy.

I had a friend who used to say, “You can’t teach a pig to sing. You only waste your time and upset the pig.” Complaining about the weather, fretting over the past, or trying to change someone else’s behavior is a lot like trying to teach a pig to sing. You don’t achieve your goal, and you usually irritate somebody.

Why resist things? Life is too short to be frustrated and angry over things that can’t be changed. When I hear people griping about the weather, I wonder what they think it could possibly accomplish. Yes, it is snowing. Yes, it is cold. Yes, we all wish summer would hurry up and get here. Will complaining about the cold make the weather any warmer? Will Mother Nature suddenly say, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize all of you Evanston residents were expecting sunshine and blue skies. Let me fix that.”

No. She will not bend to our will.

Rather than resist what is, I have found it is much easier to accept circumstances and make the best of them. Surrender to what is, rather than resist with futility.

Surrendering has such a negative connotation. It brings to mind weakness, giving up and giving in. In fact, I would argue that the opposite is true. It takes determination and strength to accept the things we cannot change. It takes character to submit our will to something greater. It takes humility and grace to be thankful for the snow, when you really wish to see the sun.

Most of our suffering has its roots in resistance. We suffer as we agonize over mistakes, misspoken words, and things we have done wrong. You can’t change the past. It has already happened. You can accept the past and move on, working to correct the mistakes of yesterday.

We suffer as we worry about what will happen tomorrow. We have no control over tomorrow. Of course, you can make plans, but as the good book says, we are not guaranteed tomorrow. It is foolish to say, “Tomorrow I will do this, and tomorrow I will do that.” We don’t know what will happen tomorrow. Worrying about it, resisting internally, will not change a moment. 

Busy as a Bee

Just a Thought

By Deborah Demander

Everyone I meet has a busy life. It seems like everyone is bustling around working, volunteering, and running non-stop.

Most days, I’m up by 5 a.m. and I don’t stop running until after 10 p.m. I’m not complaining, just noticing that everyone around me is as busy as I am.

At an early morning breakfast meeting, I asked a friend how he was doing.

“I’m really busy,” he replied. “Sometimes I wonder if every day is going to be a grind for the rest of my life.”

I agreed with him, but as I thought about it later, I realized that life doesn’t have to be a grind. We all have choices. We choose where to work, where to live, who to marry, what church to attend, what activities to be involved in.

Everything in your life is there as a result of choices you have made. If you don’t like where you are or what you’re doing, make a different decision. The effects of a decision stay in place until you make a different decision.

If you have made a decision and find that you don’t like where its taking you, perhaps it’s time to reevaluate.

I like having a busy life. I enjoy volunteering my time to make the community a better place, and I like my work, which generally casts me far and wide throughout the region. Last Wednesday found me driving to Kemmerer for an early morning meeting with the Governor,  attending the Kemmerer Rotary Club meeting, then driving like a crazy woman down the interstate in my Subaru (yes, the same pig-mobile) to attend another meeting with the Governor and Uinta County officials. Once that was finished, I took pictures of an event in town, then attended a parking meeting.

But I didn’t complain, because I like to be busy. Well. I may have complained a little the next morning when my alarm went off, but overall it was a fun day. If I didn’t like to be busy, I would do something else.

Many people, when I ask how they are doing, reply with a heavy sigh and a roll of the eyes, “I’m sooo busy.”

We are all busy. If you don’t like being busy, do something different. It is okay to say no to things you don’t want to do, or things that don’t match your priorities. We often loose sight of what is important in our lives, and fill our days with things we hate doing.

Stop. Don’t fill your life with things you don’t like. Life is too short to be dismal. Your day ought to be an outward expression of who you really are. If your activities don’t accurately reflect who you are, then do something different. Life is a series of choices. Choose who you will be and how you will represent yourself by the activities you participate in and the people you surround yourself with.

If those things aren’t an accurate representation, then change them.

I know. Change is hard. We all have decisions to make about the kind of life we want to have. You can decide today who you want to be, what you want to do, and what you want to have.

If you don’t want to be busy, then do something else. Say no. Stay home. Relax. There are lots of people out there willing to step in and fill the void. Although change is difficult, it’s not as hard as living a disingenuous life.

Any decision you made can be changed. You don’t have to do something drastic, such as quit your job, but you can look first for smaller changes that feel better, and more in line with your priorities. Sometimes a small shift is all it takes to feel better about life.

Deborah, in Hebrew, means bee. I like to stay busy, like the bees in the garden working. But bees still take time to smell the flowers.

When you are inundated with work and activity, don’t get frustrated. Enjoy. And if you don’t enjoy, then stop and do something else. And whatever you are doing, wherever you are, take a hint from the bees, and pause in your busyness to smell the flowers.

Namaste friends

Some life lessons linger like a foul odor in the air, a constant reminder of one wrong decision. On Saturday, my kids and I had the pleasure of selecting pigs for their 4-H program.

I am a city girl. Not really a city girl, so much as a town girl, but suffice it to say that the closest I have ever come to an actual, live pig is the cartoon version of Charlotte’s Web. I read that book as a youngster, and when I had young kids, I read it to them and we watched the movie. Pigs are cute, pink and cuddly. At least that was my impression until last Saturday.

I have heard that pigs are smarter than dogs. I don’t want to debate the relative intelligence of my dogs, but I don’t think they are the smartest pets I’ve ever owned. So I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the pigs turn out to be smarter than the dogs. But I digress.

Saturday morning, the kids and I arrived early, along with nearly 90 other eager 4-H participants. Some of the pigs lay in a heap, trying to keep warm after their long journey from Texas. Others rooted around in the hay, and some played. I thought they were playing, until someone pointed out that one little piggy was an aggressive jerk who was attacking the others.

My good friend told me to dress “appropriately”. Whatever that is supposed to mean. I had on cute Capri pants, sandals and a Uinta County sweatshirt. It was my pig-picking outfit. She looked at me with a snicker. “That’s what you wore?” She had on boots, long pants and several thick shirts. When the pig picking began, I understood that I was not dressed appropriately.

First, the kids climbed into the pen when their name was selected. Yuck. Muddy. If I climbed in there, my sandals would definitely get ruined. Then, once the child picked out his project pig, a parent would scoop the pig up and haul it away. I nearly jumped out of my skin, when the first pig was selected. The dad strode to the animal and lifted it from behind, carrying it firmly in front of him.

The pig did not let out a gentle oink, as I was expecting. It screamed. I am not exaggerating. The pig was screaming all the way to the trailer. I stood astonished, wondering if he had accidentally pinched it or something. Nope. The next pig, and the next one, and every one after that screamed. It was actually bloodcurdling. I have never heard a bloodcurdling scream until Saturday. And then I got to hear it 90 times.

One of my kids selected a pig that turned out not to be properly castrated.

“That boar will be mounting those other pigs soon,” a wise friend informed me (we were buying nine pigs as a group). “If it were younger, I could castrate it now, but you can’t show a boar at fair, so you’ll either need to call a vet or put the pig back and pick another one.”

Of course, my child had picked out the one pig that had escaped castration. Unfortunately, she had to wait until the very end, to select from the remaining pigs. The other eight in our group decided to take the trailer and head to the farm, while Lexi and I waited for the end of the sale. My friend offered to head back with the trailer, once the other pigs had been unloaded.

I told her I’d call if we needed her to come back. We waited around as every pig was selected except “Mr. Boar” and two other pigs. One was the largest pig in the arena. The other was a tiny pig with a sway back. Lexi hemmed and hawed, and finally decided on the larger one. My son hefted it up, and it let out the customary scream. My son stood holding the pig, looking at me quizzically.

“What am I supposed to do with this thing?” Oh. Right. I had forgotten to call my friend back.

Sudden inspiration struck. “Put it in the back of the Subaru,” I suggested. After all, it’s only a short drive from the fairgrounds to the farm. Less than five minutes. How much trouble can a pig be in five minutes?

I was about to find out. The pig did not like the car ride. One hundred and fifteen pounds of pig snorted in the back of the car. Fortunately, once my son released him, Spidey (as we affectionately named him) stopped squealing. He started grunting and rooting. And peeing and pooing. The kids in the back seat were screaming. “The pig is peeing. Oh gross. Now he’s pooping. Oh gross. Now he’s eating my braid.”

Chaos ensued as Spider Pig tried to climb over the seat, his hooves now covered in fresh pig poo. He nosed the girls on the back of the neck, trying to eat their hair. The kids screamed. The pig squealed. I drove like a maniac to minimize the damage.

Five minutes can seem like a very long time when you are hauling a leaking pig. It leaked everywhere.

Pigs can’t jump. Once we reached the farm, I backed up through the gate, into the pig pen and lifted the hatch. “Okay, Spider Pig, jump out.”

The pig just stood there. He did not jump out. I waited. Spider Pig waited. We had a stare down, while I tried to coax him out of the car. He stood there and relieved himself one more time, before I finally got my son to lift him out.

As I pulled out of the pigpen and into the driveway, I wondered if the smell would follow me home.

Driving a pig around in my car was not the best idea I ever had. What I now have is a giant pig named Spider Pig and a peculiar odor whenever I get in the car. When asked why I would drive a pig in my car, I can only tell you that it seemed like a good idea at the time. But I can assure you, I have learned my lesson: I will never drive another pig home.

Namaste, friends

I was having a philosophical discussion with a good friend recently. It was the kind of conversation that could go on for hours, with no real resolution.

He wondered aloud whether we are born with certain characteristics, and whether we should surrender to them or strive to overcome our weaknesses.

I tend to be the kind of person who makes the best of things, whether it’s a job, a relationship, or my personality quirks. I don’t like to focus on my weaknesses, or the weaknesses of others. I try to encourage people to excel at what they are good at.

My friend argued that perhaps we should strive to be better at the things we aren’t good at, work harder at the things that don’t come naturally, and overcome our shortcomings.

While I do strive to improve on areas in my life that could use some work, I really believe we are all blessed with different gifts, talents, and abilities. I like to run, but I’m not very fast, so I’m not going to kill myself trying to be an Olympian. I do try to overcome my innate desire to curl up with a book by interspersing small bursts of activity into my reading time. I’m not much of a cleaner, so I exert great effort in maintaining a presentable abode. But I love to work in my garden and I could do it for hours.

This is the reason fish don’t fly.

We all have things we are good at. Fish are good at swimming. Flying? Not so much. If fish worked hard all day to fly, they would end up exhausted and frustrated. A few might get airborne, but they would be the exception rather than the rule.

We are like fish, trying to fly. We exhaust ourselves trying to force ourselves to complete tasks we hate because we think we should. Rather than try to force yourself to do something you aren’t good at, embrace those talents and gifts you have, and practice them with wild abandon. Birds fly! They love it. They soar high in the air, letting the wind carry them hither and yon. Birds don’t worry about the fish. They don’t worry about swimming, unless they want to. They execute their flight with vigor and enthusiasm. So too, we ought embrace our gifts. Rather than straining and struggling to do things that don’t suit you, discover those things that bring you joy and fulfillment. Do those things. We are here for such a short time. What is the point is trudging through life, dreading the morning. We could dance and sing our way through each day, energized by the things we love.

Of course, the house must still be cleaned. And I will clean it. But I will not let that ruin my day. I will clean it to suit myself, and then I will play in the garden. I will read and write, and sing. Those are the things that make me happy. Dishes must be done, but I don’t have to spend my life washing them. Clothes must be folded. Books must be balanced. The mundane tasks wait for attention. But what I find mundane, others derive great pleasure from doing. Some people clean houses because they like it. For all the tasks, there are people well suited to them, who enjoy the work they do.

Today, I encourage each one of you to find those things that make your heart sing. Look for the things that bring you joy and leave you feeling energized, rather than drained. If you can’t do it for a job, then do it for a moment. Our lives mustn’t be consumed by drudgery. There is fun to be had, if you know where to look.

Fish don’t fly, because their fun is in the water. Discover where your hope lies, then do things to bring you a step closer to that today. A small step, followed by another and another will lead you to the path of your greatest joy and heart’s desire.

You are a bird, so fly high!

Namaste, friends.

I often wonder, what difference does it all make anyway? What difference if we go to work, if we raise our kids right, or go to church? What’s the difference if we are nice, mean, angry or kind? Does it even matter? Does anyone even notice?

Actually, your life makes a huge difference to the people around you.

Each one of us has the power to change the world, even if it’s just our own small corner. To change the world takes only small acts of a large number of people. It is possible to make a difference wherever you find yourself. You can leave your corner of the world better than you found it, and in that way, you make a difference.

Begin by making a positive change in yourself. It doesn’t have to be huge. Just a small positive change will have a ripple effect as it moves outward to those around you. You can decide to eat a healthy breakfast, or to drink one less cup of coffee, or walk an extra lap around the block. Positive change doesn’t have to be huge.

Another way to have a positive impact on those around you is to come from a place of love. When you are tempted to be judgmental, angry or harsh, take just a moment and reflect on the person before you. They are probably doing the best they can, at this moment in their life, just as you are. Take a deep breath and accept that whatever they have said or done has nothing to do with you, and is simply a reflection of where they are. Without saying anything, you can mentally extend feelings of kindness, forgiveness, and acceptance. While you don’t have to like everyone you meet, you can still be kind and accepting of who they really are. In that small way, you will make a difference to them.

Kindness goes a long way toward making a difference and changing the world. If you start with being kind to yourself, the ripple effect will again move outward, affecting those around you. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Simply do your best, and move forward. There is no need to berate or condemn yourself. Be kind and keep moving on.

Another way to make a difference in the world is to just show up. Be where you are. You might not like the place you find yourself, but if you show up to your day with a commitment to doing your best and extending kindness, you can change your world.

Show up every day. Do your best. Eventually you will find that you are changing not only yourself, but those around you as well. Show up and show those around you how much you care about them and about their lives. People want to be noticed. They want a chance to tell you about themselves. Just show up. Sometimes you don’t have to do anything more.

You are making a difference today to every person you meet. Show up and do your best. Extend kindness and forgiveness. Even if no one ever notices, your own life will be greatly enriched. And don’t forget to smile.

Namaste, friends

Life is short. And then you die. Many of us fear death, but there is something much greater we should fear every day of our lives.

Fearing death is futile. It creeps upon you, unawares, snatching life when least expected. And even when you are expecting it, or wanting it, or longing for it, death still shocks those left behind.

We fear the unknown. We fear what we cannot control. We fear being all alone. Yet the specter of death comes for each of us, ready or not.

My job requires me to type up obituaries for the newspaper. Sometimes this job is rewarding, as in the case of Thelma Davis, who passed away after living 105 years. She touched countless lives, and leaves a legacy that will continue for generations.

At the other end of the spectrum, I was grieved to write the obituary for the niece of a friend. She lived only hours. Her tiny life was cut short, for reasons we will never know.

And between the two, the death of a young man in the prime of his life saddened and dismayed me. The sudden and abrupt snatching away of these three left me wondering, what could be worse than death?

What greater fear ought we face?

Whether your life lasts only hours, or stretches beyond a century, living a life without meaning is the most tragic thing of all. Wasting this precious gift ought to be our greatest fear.

Each one of us has only a short time here. The time may be really short, or it may be relatively short, but we have just a blip to make our mark. Whether we are given hours, decades or longer, when posted against the vastness of eternity, time is fleeting.

You are here for a purpose. You will not always be here. At some point in the future, your friends, family and acquaintances will be mourning the loss of your life. Between the time you are born and the time you pass on, you have a chance to make a difference. You can choose to impact other people in a positive manner, and leave a lasting impact, or you can choose to live in isolation, squandering your gifts until the end.

No matter how long your life, you can discover your purpose and live with intent. Creating a life of meaning, purpose and beauty starts first with your intent. Decide how you want to live, who you want to be and what you want to create.

Every moment you are here, let your life be an expression of your greatest desire. Don’t wait to make a difference. Today is the day. Now is the time. Seize the moment and let your life be a great expression of who you really are.

Every thought, every word, every deed can make a positive impact. You have such a short time to be who you were created to be. It is so easy to say, “When my kids grow up, then I will…”, or “When I lose weight, then I will…”, or “When I retire, then I will…”

There is no time to waste. Someday will always be out there. Today is here now. Take one step in the direction of your dreams, even if it is only a tiny step.

The hour is at hand. Once the moment has passed, there can be no recovering what was lost. Now is the time to live the life you are here for.

Once you are dead, it will be too late to make a lasting impact. Begin creating that life today. You never know when it will end.

Namaste, friends.