A Grand Life

A letter from my (imagined) 90-year-old self.

I want a grand life.

Not of sports car drives and expensive wine spilled overtop counters in homes I may never afford, although these things are nice to enjoy, but one of stories. When I’m older, I want a hallway of framed photos from places traveled, people loved, and words scribbled beside what was experienced throughout. I want health for the ones I love. I want a book of stories, photos, and poetry scattered from life—a concluding message currently veiled to me—but one that reflects connection. One of love and depth the entire way through.

I want a life of paying attention. Listening to others speak on their passions and pain, truly seeing them. Watching their faces light up when they talk about their dreams. Their eyes as they search for an undetermined focal point while recalling a story. Asking questions about the interests that fill their mind. What keeps them up at night? What gets them out of bed in the morning?

I want a life without regret. One that never regretted showing love because it was needed, despite how things may have ended. One that replaced shame with grace and fear with courage. One that remembered mistakes were always a part of the experience. One that was never afraid to express the truth, even while knowing it would change everything.

I want to sit at coffee shops in different places making note of everything that makes me feel alive at that given time over the taste of bitter coffee and a sweet pastry. I want to notice everything, the details of my lipstick stains on the wine glass. I want to shout my love over and over and over again, rise from the shambles of heartbreak, and not be afraid to do it again. I want to forgive. I want to change my mind often. I want to climb the mountains and trust that things were always exactly as they were supposed to be. I want to have cried of laughter with the women who make my life magical, never forgetting the start of a phone call in tears that ended falling to the floor in laughter. I want to have trusted the entire way through. I want to have never turned cold, despite all the reasons to. I want to have shared my art with the world before waiting a lifetime paralyzed by perfectionistic tendencies. I want to have created in every space available at any given time, capturing the height of Jaws in Maui through my lens. To have written about who and what was inspiring me in every season of life. Answering questions I’ve been afraid to even ask myself and letting life be the mirror that it is. I want to know a love that was worth the wait. One so beautiful it makes me smile while doing the dishes. One so deep and light and soft and loud. One that sees me fully.

I want a life of authentic expression. The kind that embraced every facet of who I am without watering myself down for the comfort of another. I want an unhurried life. One that remembered that this is the experience. This is the experience. Every self-imposed barrier, each self-perceived flaw—this was always a part of the experience. There is no destination to be rushed to.

This is the grand life.