My Last Day

The other day I was admonished by yet another author to live each day as if it were my last.

Exploring my annoyance with this hackneyed piece of advice, I realized that there is one very good and very simple reason to not greet each day as if it is going to be my last and that is because it is highly unlikely that it will be.

Even if I were 99 years old and, statistically speaking, likely to die within the next ten days, on any given day, the likelihood of me dying on that day is only ten percent.

I agree that it is important for us to face and come to terms with our mortality but I prefer to live each day as if there are many more to come. This perspective is both more in alignment with reality (a realm in which I prefer to live) and also encourages me to give my loving attention to activities that need years of such nurturing to thrive and grow: friendships, my garden, my music, all the things that make my life rich and worth living.