Living

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." Oscar Wilde

I saw the quote above and it struck me as most profound. What did he mean? What does it mean to me? Why does it strike my very soul.

My mind's eye envisions people stuck in the routines of their day... immersed in the struggles that grace life... losing sight of the beauty in life. I pictured me at times. How does one live as opposed to exist? I think I see the answer in the eyes of my children.

Years have flashed by in my life, I don't think I ever took the moment to savor it or understand the importance of each moment. The significance of time changes the moment my first was born. The first time I laid eyes on her I realized that my mother was once presented with me. Years ago, I was once just as vulnerable. I was once brand new. I promised myself that I would do my best to make each day count and do my best to make memories for her and I. It was a sober realization that this time was limited and that each day that passed she would be one day older. Every time I look at her and say, "wow, she is so big," I remember that this is the littlest she'll ever be. Each day I get to know her a little more. With every word, I get to see her personality unfold. She reminds me of how amazing dinosaurs are, the pure laughter from tickling and the beauty in every day life. The magic that surrounds us that I never quite noticed before she came into my life. She makes me realize that I want as many of these moments as I can have.

There are still moments I catch myself just existing. Parenting is a daunting task. I become overwhelmed and become a buoy on the ocean. Then I remember to just keep swimming because life is good. She reminded me of how to live and I don't ever want her to lose sight of that truth.