Between Birth and Death There Is a Small Window Called Life
Life rarely announces its fragility in dramatic ways. Most days arrive wrapped in routine, familiarity, and a sense that tomorrow will look very similar to today.
Life rarely announces its fragility in dramatic ways. Most days arrive wrapped in routine, familiarity, and a sense that tomorrow will look very similar to today.
We live as if time is endless, postponing meaning for a later version of life that never quite arrives. But life is not something we own. It is something we pass through. And in that brief stay, success alone is never enough. What gives life depth is contribution, presence, and the way we make others feel. In the end, meaning is not found in what we accumulate, but in what we give.