“…if you are willing to make one person’s day a little better than it was before… then you are making a difference, and you might not realize just how big of a difference you are making. It could be the biggest difference of all.”
This is what I forget daily: that we are here to be kind to one another, to be helpful, to be loving. I get so tied up in the productivity, the projects, the what-do-you-want-from-me pains, that I lash out or hunker down, removing myself from the equation entirely.
But this idea, this action item of making someone’s day – doesn’t that turn it all around?
I woke up this morning with these words in my head if I only had 37 days to live, none of this bullshit would matter. And by “bullshit” I meant the stuff in my head I was panicking about. Projects without plans, emails waiting for responses, the calls I “had” to make, the incoming texts, the berating myself for sleeping in/not exercising/wanting too much.
If I only had 37 days to live, I would be down at the ocean, swimming in the 50 degree water, warmer than the air. I would be calling friends, meeting for coffee (all the coffee), getting on a plane to see everyone I love in person one more time. I would be cooking myself lunch, whatever I’m craving, and then cooking the best damn dinner I possibly can for H and I to enjoy when he gets home. I would be out rock climbing every wall and hiking every path in Southern California. I would be writing, writing, writing. And I would be telling everyone “It’s going to be OK” and “I love you” over and over and over again.
That intense focus, like the prick of light through a magnifying glass, is diffused by my daily worries that I’m not enough, I could do more, I’m going to lose it all if I don’t x…y…z.
At the core, the light is my life and the magnifying glass is the lens of viewing my life through my impending death. It’s inevitable, right? We all leave this plane earthly plane eventually. But, what am I doing with the time I do have? And how do I not crumble under the weight of that pressure?
By being a daymaker. That’s how.
It all slides into perfect clarity when I think about it this way.
It doesn’t get much more “important” than that. Remember this power that you hold. Then go do something — big or small or so very tiny, extraordinary or beautifully ordinary — to make another human being’s day a little better. What you do matters. Every art project. Every email. Every job, even the jobs you don’t love. Every act of care. It all matters.