As I approach my 60th birthday, something deep inside me has shifted. Not in a fearful or panicked way, but in a sacred, awakening kind of way. I’ve found myself looking back—not with regret, but with reverence—and forward, not with urgency, but with purpose.
Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.
This has been my life verse as long as I can remember. I believe it has gradually become my goal. I treasure the moments. I am bursting with gratitude for the life I’ve lived and expectant of the future. I want each day to count.
Because of that, I’ve started a quiet, powerful ritual. Each morning, I ask myself, “What will I do today that is worthy of a day that will never return?” And each evening, as the sun slips beneath the horizon, I gently ask, “What did I do today that was worthy of a day I will never get back?”
I don’t sit in judgment of my answers. I hold them lightly. Some days are full of meaning. Others are messy and ordinary. But each one counts, because each one is part of the limited number of days I have left.
That reality became clearer when I did the math: If I live to be 100, I have about 14,600 days remaining. That’s it. Out of the 36,500 days a centenarian might get, the majority of mine have been spent. And considering that the average life expectancy for women is 82—and no one in my family has lived past 89—that number may be even lower.
This may seem morbid to some, but here’s the beauty in the limitation: value. When something becomes scarce, it becomes precious. And so I’m embracing this chapter of life with a new lens. The sixties, I believe, will be my golden decade—not because they will be easy, but because they will be intentional.
I don’t need to live forever. I just want to live well. And today, I choose to live a life worthy of this irreplaceable day.
Now it’s your turn.
I invite you to start your own daily ritual that will help you live a more intentional day. It doesn’t have to be intense. Depending on your season of life, it can be anything from giving yourself permission to sit with your child and listen to their joke, to giving your undivided attention to your spouse, to serving at a community center, etc. There’s no such thing as big or small, there’s only transcendent and temporary. And although a lot of our life is composed of temporary things we must do, don’t forget to squeeze in some transcendent activities. Those are the ones that bring significance to our lives.