racheljoi.com

This may be a lit­tle macabre, but I’ve been think­ing about what I want things to be like when I die. I closed my law firm offi­cial­ly last week. I just was­n’t hap­py prac­tic­ing law, and I real­ized that when I’m on my deathbed, I don’t want to think that I should have changed jobs fifty years ago. And that’s what I would think if I con­tin­ued in law, or at least in prac­tic­ing law. So I’ve closed up shop and am spend­ing some time being a house­wife. I don’t think I will regret this.

Think­ing about being on my deathbed got me think­ing about oth­er areas of my life as well. Carl and I talked about things, and we agreed that, if one of us were to die sud­den­ly, we don’t want either of us to feel that we should have said more or shown more love. And I know that, if one of us died today, I would know that I had shown him love and been shown so much love. I also don’t want to feel like I did­n’t real­ly LIVE. And by this, I don’t mean bungee jump­ing or swim­ming with sharks or open­ing a bar on a beach in Cos­ta Rica. I mean being present. Being present to expe­ri­ence the beau­ty and the sor­row that life pro­vides. This means every­thing from play­ing with my dogs and gar­den­ing to spend­ing time with friends and fam­i­ly to trav­el­ing to read­ing a book and watch­ing TV (because yes, watch­ing some TV can con­tribute to my hap­pi­ness). I’ve known some­one who dis­con­nect­ed and chose not to be present and expe­ri­ence the hurts and the joys, and it caused a lot of pain for many peo­ple. I will be present though. I will try not to regret bro­ken rela­tion­ships or missed oppor­tu­ni­ties. I may not love life every day, but I will appre­ci­ate it and know that expe­ri­enc­ing it is what makes every­thing worth it. Embrac­ing the pain and the sad­ness so that cel­e­brat­ing joy and love is even more bril­liant.

That got real­ly sap­py, did­n’t it? I’m in a bit of a sen­ti­men­tal and con­tem­pla­tive mood…