This morning I met up with a dear friend. We had a long and meandering catch up.

Our conversation hit all the emotions with both of us getting watery eyed over the possibilities and opportunities that come with hope, raising our voices in excitement over creative ideas, high-fiving for standing up to the people who can be better, and cheering each other for taking chances and being true to ourselves.

There is something about this person that inspires me to be me. Yep. Not to be more. Not to be better. Not to be different. To be me. To be true to me. To do what I know feels good deep down in the very bottom of my soul.

We talked about the importance of living a life you feel happy with. A life that gives you value. A life that matters to you. To do this you need to know who you are.

This reminded me of a blog post I wrote a while ago talking about how I’m not doing all things. How I was turning off my alarm, rolling over, and going back to sleep. How I was okay with this because, well, there is always tomorrow.

This blog got a few comments on Facebook. But the one comment that stands out and that I think about on an almost daily basis is this one:

“Tomorrow is fine, until you realize that there are less tomorrows than yesterdays.” Thank you Ross Knight for writing this.

You hit a chord. You gave me the shake up I needed. You reminded me that it’s today that matters.

This morning I mentioned this comment to my friend. And this sent us down a path of talking about a life well lived, making every moment count (thank you Sindy Hooper), making the time for people, and what is really truly valuable in life.

I’m not a fan of the “squeeze every minute out of every day”, “never waste a day”, “live each day like it’s your last”, or “no regrets”. For me, these mantras set me up for failure, angst, pressure, and stress.

When I was in my 20’s and 30’s I spent a lot of time anxious about how I wasn’t making a difference. I was stressed because I believe everyone has a reason for being here, and I hadn’t found my reason. I hadn’t made my difference. I hadn’t done that thing that was going to change someone else’s life or help them or leave a meaningful impact. What was the point of this life if I wasn’t doing this? What was I doing? I felt like I’d been gifted this life but I couldn’t figure out how to repay this gift to give it value. What was my thing? What was my unique talent?

Yeah. It was a lot to be living under. A lot of pressure. A lot of expectation. A lot of tears. A lot of not knowing. A lot of fear about not finding the thing that I was put here to do.

And now here I am.

When I got home this afternoon, Marc was in the backyard with a young kid and his dad. They were riding their ‘cross bikes around and Marc was helping the young boy with ‘cross skills – dismounts, mounts, barriers, corners, and just having fun.

Seeing this filled me up.

Because this is it. It’s the little things. The making time for a friend. The smile you give a stranger. The small acts that tell someone that you see and support them. The acceptance of people for who they are in that moment.

The accountability of being human.

There can be no tomorrow on this. It has to be today.