Intentional Living

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I want to live intentionally.

The thought came to me a few months ago, like a scent of something beautiful in the breeze and then it was gone, just as soon as it had come. I went on with my life. But a few days later it came back, live intentionally. It wafted through the air like a string of music, coming up to my ear like a light kiss, and passing on into the universe.

What does that mean? We must define our terms, like the old philosophers. (Straighten your togas, everyone).

I think it has several layers of meaning. It is a way of life, rather than a concept.  Perhaps most importantly, it means to slow down. Put my phone away, turn off the music, and admire the way the sun comes through the leaves in the trees, to stop and look up into the great dark sky and marvel at the stars, to savor my food instead of just eating it, it means to be mature, but not too practical.

It means patience, and with patience a change of perspective. Instead of being frustrated by the birds chirping outside my window keeping me from sleeping in, I choose to enjoy the way they sing.

I means that instead of reminiscing about how I want my life to be, I make it that way. I want to be the kind of person that writes, so I write. I want to be the kind of person who gardens, drinks tea on her porch at sunset, reads exquisite novels, and takes morning runs.

I think that, ultimately, it means that I don’t let life happen to me. I intentionally choose how to live it, to the very best of my ability.

This is a diary of my experiment. But it’s also a place where I let my heart run free, as I think that is a large part of this expedition.

My goals are ultimately:

To find joy in everyday, simplistic living

To find meaning

To love tremendously

To learn more about myself and others

To challenge my own beliefs

To be unafraid of challenging others

My fears:

That nothing will change

And most humiliating of all, I fear what others will think of me.

 

What are your thoughts?