Merry Christmas, friends! This time of year always makes me so sentimental about how quickly time passes — maybe it’s because there are so many memories wrapped up in the holidays that I find myself trying to grasp onto every little moment that happens and take a snapshot in my mind, knowing that I’ll turn around and this time will have slipped away. Chanel gave me a copy of Anna Quindlen’s A Short Guide to a Happy Life (which she should have supplemented with a box of kleenex), and I thought you guys would enjoy an excerpt from it that I’ve been rereading this week:
Life is made up of moments, small pieces of glittering mica in a long stretch of gray cement. It would be wonderful if they came to us unsummoned, but particularly in lives as busy as the ones most of us lead now, that won’t happen. We have to teach ourselves how to make room for them, to love them, and to live, really live. // I learned to live many years ago. Something really bad happened to me, something that changed my life in ways that, if I had a choice, it would never have been changed at all. // I learned to love the journey, not the destination. I learned that this is not a dress rehearsal, and that today is the only guarantee you get. // Consider the lilies of the field. Look at the fuzz on a baby’s ear. Read in the backyard with the sun on your face. Learn to be happy. And think of life as a terminal illness, because, if you do, you will live it with joy and passion, as it ought to be lived.
-Anna Quindlen, A Short Guide to a Happy Life
As we approach the start of a new year, that’s my holiday wish for you dear readers: to live life as it ought to be lived, with joy, passion, and presence. To open our eyes to the beauty that’s all around us and give those around us our undistracted attention and our authentic selves, which is really the best gift we have to offer. So go forth and be merry — we’ll see y’all back here next week!
– Big hugs and lots of love, Camille
