A Long Life or a Good Life?

They say life is short. And yet, some people seem determined to make it feel unbearably long. You know the type—those who count every calorie, wake up at 5 AM for ice-cold showers, and chew on kale like it’s the secret to immortality. I admire their discipline, truly. But I can’t help but wonder—what’s the point of a hundred-year life if it feels like a never-ending Tuesday afternoon meeting?

We chase longevity like it’s the ultimate prize, as if existing longer automatically means living better. But does it?

I think of the old poet who died young but left behind words that still breathe. The musician whose melodies outlived his heartbeat. The grandmother who laughed loudly, loved deeply, and never once counted her steps. They may not have had the longest lives, but they had full ones.

A well-lived life isn’t measured in years—it’s measured in moments. The kind of moments that make your soul hum. Dancing in the kitchen at midnight. Crying from laughter with a friend. Holding someone’s hand just a little tighter, because you know time is slipping through your fingers.

And yes, taking care of yourself is important. But if the choice is between a salad and a croissant in Paris? I think we both know the right answer.

So here’s to life, not just long, but alive. However many days we get, let’s make them beautiful. Let’s make them ours.