Changing the World in Yesterday's Makeup

I’ve decided that the title of my memoir will be “Changing the World in Yesterday’s Makeup”. Nothing profound there…it just so exemplifies the status of my life these days. So much to do and so little time. Never enough time to spend with my sister and my precious niece and nephews. Never enough time on my horse. Never enough time to say the thousands of thank-yous that need to be said in a personal and meaningful way. The thing about living with the OC—and especially in the last month as I have had to wake up every morning and really confront the reality that for each one of us, our days are numbered—is that life both speeds up and slows down. On the one hand, there is so much still to do. Life is frenetic—every hour spent sleeping is an hour not spent having one last chance to do one last amazing thing. If nothing else, the last seven years have given me the most amazing appreciation for the beauty of every single moment. That is a priceless gift that I would not trade. Having said that, I often ask God if there isn’t an easier way to that realization. Why does it take such a keen awareness of running out of time to make you value it so much? And yet, as my life is racing ahead and I am frantically cramming experience after experience into it, things are also slowing down. I am making peace. And that, as odd as it sounds, is an eerie feeling. There’s almost a resignation to it that my head is finding hard to accept. Saying “I love yous”, saying “goodbyes”, prioritizing what I want to see one last time. There’s a beauty in it because it is so intentional, so deliberate. What a blessing to be able to truly say, “I have righted my wrongs. I have my faced my fears. I have let those who matter know that they matter.” But it also sort-of takes the mystery out of wondering what comes next. In my heart, I’ve still got a cabin in Alaska calling my name for a year or two. I’m still waiting to get picked to work at McMurdo Bay in Antarctica. My soulmate is still out there and we still need to join the Peace Corp and learn to speak Spanish. But then, there is so much to leave behind and so little chance to wake up surrounded by the ones I love, in the town I love, doing work for people I love. These, my friends, are the questions that we would all be asking if we started living as if our days were numbered. These are the questions that really can’t be answered because the point is really just in the asking. And so, for now, I won’t slow down long enough to wash my face before my head hits the pillow each night. That is one thing I can control—I can decide to forego skincare for ten more minutes of soaking it all in. I think it’s an awesome trade—just don’t tell my dermatologist.