Recently I took my family to watch the newest Star Wars movie. They all had a great time, and I did too, because I was able to doze off for about 35 minutes somewhere in the middle of the show.
Twelve bucks for some popcorn and a great nap in a comfortable chair surrounded by people I love is a fantastic bargain in my estimation; I’d make that deal again all day long. The plot is still a bit foggy in my mind, but I’m sure the empire was defeated yet again and the judicious use of the force made the universe safe for all right thinking people, so I can rest easy on that count.
After the show we went out to eat (somehow I can always stay awake for food) and just had a wonderful time enjoying each other’s company.
So on this (Canadian) family day holiday, let’s engage in a little thought experiment:
Imagine it’s your last day on earth. You’re 95, and you’re going to be taking your last breath in the next two minutes. You’re laying in bed, and you’re looking up at all of the loving faces surrounding you.
Close your eyes and imagine the scene; what faces are represented there? Is your boss there? Is your best customer there? Is the enemy that has inflicted so much psychic pain and taken so much of your time and head space looking at you? Is your best employee there, or your worst?
No, your family is there. Maybe your children or your spouse or a beloved brother or sister. They’re the ones looking at you in love.
Now, what advice does your 95-year-old self have for your today-self? What most important, life-defining counsel does this old person have for the younger you?
On this statutory holiday that celebrates all things family, picture that advice. And… whatever the older you advises you to do, do that thing.