Live your heart out—
It’s what we’re here to do.
But your heart is not my heart,
And my idea of living,
Most likely, isn’t yours.
Some people live to dance their lives away,
The taste of tequila burning on their tongues,
Ending up in the arms of a stranger, loved for the night.
Some people live to quietly read tales written by others,
Curled up on the couch, wrapped in blankets,
As the moon cuts silver slivers in the dark evening sky.
Some people live to travel the world—
To have each continent, each country, each beach, and every village
Leave a loving, lasting scar on their ever-voyaging hearts.
Some people live to stay rooted in one place,
Finding ecstasy in the familiarity of places and faces,
Making babies, watching them grow.
Some people live to work in great big offices, in great big towers,
Wearing their black or grey suits like golden armors,
As they fight gloriously, passionately, for their livelihood
From early in the morning, until the clock strikes midnight,
Day in, day out.
Some people live to sleep in and wake up slow—
To surf waves, drink coffee, and write soft poetry in the afternoon sun…
Waiting tables and pouring coffee just to get by, shuddering at the thought
Of a career,
Of a boss,
Of a mortgage.
Some people live to go out each night,
Finding peace of mind in shouted conversations in crowded bars,
Seeing freedom in the hot dampness coming off of dancing bodies in clubs.
Some people live to stay in,
Cook food that nourishes not just the body, but the soul,
Elevated by the soft creaking of the record player,
As John Denver and the Pines sing them to other worlds.
Some people live for the gym,
Finding strength not just in the weights and gains,
But in their perseverance to overcome lethargy
And push on toward reaching their best self.
Some people live for moments on their yoga mats,
Finding space with every breath.
Some people live for the cities,
Others for the mountains.
Some for noise,
Others for quiet.
Some for words,
Others for touch.
Some for going deep,
Some for staying on the surface.
Some for community,
Some for solitude,
Or all of it…
As if there ever was
Only one right way to live…
Rather than whispering judgments,
Let it set us apart.
Aren’t we ready, by now,
To see beauty in diversity?
Author: Ernestine Mager
Image: Author’s own
Editor: Yoli Ramazzina
Copy Editor: Travis May
Social Editor: Callie Rushton