What will matter

Author's mother in her wedding dress
It’s Mother’s Day, so this week I’m going to give myself the morning off and share words of wisdom that have resonated with me over the years about life and happiness. It’s a poem from Michael Josephson called What will matter.

What will matter
Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.
There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days.
All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten
will pass to someone else.

Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.
It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations
and jealousies will finally disappear.

So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to-do lists will expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.
It won’t matter where you came from
or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.

It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.
So what will matter?
How will the value of your days be measured?

What will matter is not what you bought
but what you built, not what you got but what you gave.

What will matter is not your success
but your significance.

What will matter is not what you learned
but what you taught.

What will matter is every act of integrity,
compassion, courage, or sacrifice
that enriched, empowered or encouraged others
to emulate your example.

What will matter is not your competence
but your character.

What will matter is not how many people you knew,
but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone.

What will matter is not your memories
but the memories that live in those who loved you.

What will matter is how long you will be remembered,
by whom and for what.

Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.
It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice.

Choose to live a life that matters.

This week’s #HappyAct is to choose a life that matters. For the photo for this week’s blog, I chose a photo of my Mom who has been gone for 35 years now. She led a small life, but definitely a life that mattered.

Advertisements

Stand on a rocky outcrop

Girl on mountain topAt the Summit

Is there any better feeling on earth
Then touching the sky

Clear, cool mountain air
Fills my lungs

Majestic peaks, pristine lakes and blue skies
Envelop me in a blanket of beauty

Bald rock
Worn smooth from centuries of leather boots scraping its surface

The orange berries of a mountain ash
Gleam on a stunning canvas of lush green pines

A tiny flotilla of miniature canoes and kayaks
Steam up the crystal blue waters of the Fulton lakes below

Two eagles play hide and seek in the clouds
Kings and court jesters of the mountain

Like Horton Hears a Who
We are all just mere specks on this great earth.

It is ours to cherish and protect
At the summit.

This week’s #HappyAct is to stand on a rocky outcrop. My poem, The Summit was inspired by our trip last week to the Adirondacks. The pictures are of Grace on Bald Mountain, near Old Forge, New York.

Bald mountain, New York