I love life stories. When I was younger, I wasn’t too interested in other people’s stories as I was still living out my own. As the years progress, I find I’m fascinated by the lives of people and how their lessons and challenges made them into the people they are today. What things changed their lives? How have their perspectives and objectives shifted over the years? And how are they paying it forward?

When we are presented with and pass through life’s challenging moments, as we come out on the other side of the experience, we realize something inside has changed. We have become wiser, more tolerant perhaps, definitely softer and more open to other people and their experiences. It’s during these transformative moments that we often discover “something larger than ourselves” and decide to go off in a different direction. Our guidance becomes stronger and our vision clearer as we move into alignment with our grander purpose for being here.

A recent story that touched me was Erma Bombeck’s life story. She is probably best known as a humorous columnist, writer and TV personality who gained notoriety by writing about her family and everyday experiences. The books and columns she wrote touched a common denominator in her readers. We could all relate to her musings and chuckled along with her about life’s follies. What impressed me most, though, was a piece she wrote where she reflected on what it would be like when she died.
She wrote, “I always had a dream. When I’m asked to give an accounting of my life to a higher court, it will go like this… ‘So, empty your pockets. What have you got left of your life? Any dreams that were unfulfilled? Any unused talent that we gave you when you were born that you still have left? Any unsaid compliments or bits of love that you haven’t spread around?’ And I will answer, ‘I’ve nothing to return. I spent everything you gave me. I’m as naked as the day I was born!’”

How about you? At that moment, will you have any unfulfilled dreams? How about unused talent? One of Wayne Dyer’s famous admonitions to his audience is, “Don’t die with your song still in you.” What is your song? Have you even begun to sing it?

And the final part of this triad of questions, is there anything, any kindness, any extension of love, any caring that you haven’t spread around to those who could have benefited from your personal caring, touch or gesture? Who is there in your life that could be uplifted, inspired or encouraged? Who needs the perfect thing that only you can give?

A few years ago, I sat at the computer and just started flowing out thoughts about my life. Actually, I started writing a eulogy for myself. What would I say? What have I accomplished? What was important? I stopped mid-sentence and realized that the things I began listing were not as important as the people whose lives I may have touched. I recall something I’d heard, perhaps in a speech or read in a book somewhere. It was meaningful then, and as I recall it, is even more meaningful now. There is only one thing that will count. When it is your time of transition, it all comes down to one poignant question, “How much love have you given and how much love have you received?” For this, truly, is the only thing that we leave behind as a legacy. Everything else is irrelevant.

If you haven’t yet sung your song, there’s no time like the present to begin. Every day offers you a clean slate to start over. Every person that touches your life is there for a reason. Can you make a difference? You bet! As long as you are still in the physical body, you can express love. The many facets of love are yours for the giving for it is in giving that we truly receive.