Reader,

Saturday was the second anniversary of my Dad's passing.

I know it feels weird and dark and uncomfortable to recognize a day as some sort of death-iversary, but when you have an experience that shatters you, you carry it forever.

September 21st, 2022 is a scar on my skin. But this year, it feels a little softer and a little smoother.

A little more healed on the outside, and within.

I spent part of the day reliving some of the pain and darkness I felt in that moment and in the time that came before and after. I looked through photos, I smiled, I cried, and I wanted to scream.

But as those waves passed and my eyes dried, I reminded myself of the promise I made to my Dad and to myself on that day two years ago:

That I will live the brightest, fullest, happiest, healthiest, most intentional life I can - traveling the world, climbing up mountains and skiing down them, lighting off fireworks, eating key lime pie, doing work that matters, investing in myself, building a family, creating memories and connecting and laughing and loving so hard that it makes all the hurt and all the pain worth it.

You have one life, Reader. Just like your family and friends and all of the things that you love.

It will all go back to the stars.

Before that happens, what will you do to make the most of the time you were given? What will you do to take care of your body and your mind? What will you do to make yourself and your loved ones proud? Where can you learn and grow? How can you be better?

Make your own "mortality promise" like I did above, and then go live it. It's easier to create a healthy, active life, full of habits and practices that may be hard or uncomfortable (especially at first), when you have a purpose like that leading the way.

Have a great week, friend. I'm cheering you on.

💕 Morgan

​PS - Here's a post a wrote about this same day last year if you want to read more. ​