Embracing Life – A Reminder to Live, Not Just Exist
Hello Friends,
What does it mean to be alive? Is it simply getting through another day? Is it about the moments and connections that make us feel deeply present? Or is it about something else entirely—something less about what we do, and more about how we choose to show up?
Paraphrasing a sentiment often attributed to William Wallace: Every one of us will die, but not all of us will truly live.
Today, I’ve been thinking about what it means to really live.
The world feels like a heavy place right now, and it’s tempting to slip into survival mode—just trying to make it through. But sometimes, we’re faced with reminders that we won’t all be given that time. This isn’t about comparing our lives to anyone else’s—about feeling bad that things feel hard when others may have it worse. Struggle is real, and so is the weight of the world. But beyond the chaos and distraction, there’s a deeper truth: our time here is limited. And when we remember that, it invites us to be intentional about how we move through it. So, the question is: What do we want to do with that time?
I’m not talking about bucket lists or grand adventures (though those have their place). I’m talking about how we want to move through the world on a daily basis. How do we want to show up—for ourselves, for others, for the world around us?
We’re often reminded of this when we lose someone who made an impact on our lives. And yes, that is what has inspired this piece. It has been a bittersweet reminder that our legacy isn’t found in the things we collect or the titles we earn, but in the principles that guide us, the way we love, the way we share our light, and the energy we bring into the world—through what we create, how we hold space, and the moments of care we offer along the way.
My personal reminders for how I want to live:
I want to leave people and places just a little better than how I found them: A kind word, a moment of care, an act of generosity—these small things can change the course of someone’s day, or even their life. Our presence can be a source of warmth, or it can add to the noise. I want to choose warmth.
I want to remember that I’m here to shine my own light, not replicate someone else’s: Each of us is here for a reason. Not to imitate, but to offer something uniquely ours. Whether through the way we create, love, or support others, we all bring something into this world that no one else can.
I want to lead with compassion and curiosity, letting growth and connection guide me: It’s easy to react. To judge. To assume. But when we pause long enough to be curious—to ask, to listen, to understand— we create space for connection instead of division. And that’s the space where love grows.
I want to say yes to experiences that feel expansive and aligned—even when they feel hard or scary: Fear often signals something meaningful. The choices that stretch us are rarely the easiest, but they are often the ones that lead us closer to a life that feels more aligned. I don’t want to let fear be the reason I say no.
I want to choose from love, not for it: Love isn’t a transaction. It isn’t something we prove or earn—it’s something we cultivate and share. Whether in the way we treat ourselves or others, I want to let love be the foundation, not the goal.
So I invite you to reflect:
If today were the only guarantee, how would you move through it?
If you could zoom out from the stress, the to-do lists, the daily noise—what would really matter?
We may not get to choose how long we have, but we can choose how we show up while we’re here.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina
This piece is written in quiet reflection of someone who, in ways big and small, was part of my journey. In memory of Matt Lazare - may we all remember to live fully while we have the chance.
