No regrets...

A couple of evenings ago I got my hair cut. (Yes, all of them.) I used to dread going to the salon; I felt so vulnerable looking like a drowned rat in the middle of a public place. I would get nervous before an appointment and be told that I was silly to be so self-conscious. These days I don't mind it so much. I still feel overexposed in that chair but it's over fast enough. Plus it's one place I can go without having to take a sippy cup in my bag.

While I was there, I read a magazine with an article written by a woman who had suffered a near-death experience caused by a brain aneurysm. She shared her incredible story, which I'm sure was a cathartic and therapeutic thing to do, and wanted the reader to come away feeling that life is too short to do...whatever it is we do that's not the epitome of living. But she also mentioned that she had a special helmet designed by her close friend Tory Burch and that she was able to recuperate at her home in Guana Beach in the British Virgin Islands. And did I mention that her aneurysm occurred at a red carpet event? I don't mean to sound mocking; what she went through is horrific and I am glad she is alive and well. I honestly liked her by the end of the article. But if she wasn't living before this trauma, what does that say for the rest of us?

We've all read and heard stories of people who, after coming close to leaving this Earth, came to the realization that they wasted their lives on trivial matters. They become fully committed to cherishing every moment in a big way, lavishing their loved ones with attention and doing all the things they swore they would do at least once in their lives...skydiving, getting that degree, seeing the Eiffel Tower. And we come away from their stories motivated to do the same, saying "life is too short". After a few days, we are back to fretting over that coffee stain on the couch and yelling at our husbands to just for once close the damn cabinet door. And our short lives go on as 'trivial' as they were.

Please, no more pressure to live. I am living. I am loving, laughing, yelling, fighting, struggling, learning, growing. I am paying my bills, I am reading my books, I am teaching my daughter, I am arguing and making up with my husband, I am visiting family, I am hanging out with friends. I say "I love you" to someone every day, but I also say "I'm sorry" too often. I don't want to be told that this isn't enough, that I must do more to justify my short time here, that I will only end up regretting time wasted. I may not see the Northern Lights before I go, I may never speak French, I will not bungee jump. Life is indeed too short, no matter how long it is. There will always be time ill-spent and guilt to follow. But if I wasted a few minutes being self-conscious in the salon chair, I wasted those few minutes being true to myself. Life is never too short for that.