Day 10 :: Remember your smallness
If I only had 37 days to live,
I would remember my smallness.
Hopefully, many of those 37 days would result in 37 evening skies filled with stars. After most days, I need the stars to remind me of how small I am. The universe is vast, and our lives are nothing but a small pulse in a chronology we only believe exists. Remembering this, I am okay with 37 days.
I will spend the 37 days being the person that I want to be when I remember my smallness. I will love big and never worry. I will give, give, give to every person who seems like they are in need. I will never apologize for the things that I shouldn’t: sleeping in, moments of inexplicable sadness or letting my kitchen disintegrate into a disaster.
I will keep my daughter up past her bedtime and run my fingers through her tiny curls as she sits on my lap underneath the stars. I will murmur into her soft cheek, “Don’t take yourself too seriously, we are small, we are nothing, so always be ready to give everything.” Remember this, and it becomes impossible to waste a moment.
-Amy Lucky
Be the person you want to be when you remember your smallness.
Love big and never worry.
Give, give, give to every person who seems like they are in need.
Stop apologizing for the mess in your kitchen.
I am struck quiet by her language: "Remember your smallness."
A copy of Life is a Verb is on its way to Amy in Ohio, with a note: I’ll be speaking in Cleveland on November 6th. Let’s get together for a cup of coffee and talk about smallness and about loving big.
About the attached photo, Amy writes: I am amazed when children start picking out or INSISTING! on what they wear each day. They seem to want to wear what comforts them…whether it is a princess dress, a year-old superhero costume, or a tee shirt full of stars, I believe they are all trying to tell us something about how they feel–beautiful and invincible. If we could only carry that feeling about ourselves around as adults…
Have you ever winced at what your five-year-old proudly put on to wear to school, and marched her upstairs to change? Let’s stop doing that, okay?
