I am on a mission to ensure that we all make decisions with intention – on purpose. To live a life where you aren’t constantly choosing the default option.

Our lives are filled with transitions. When you really stop to think about it, even our days are made up of starting something, transitioning to the next task, and then to the next.

It’s a Friday night after an especially crazy week spent trying unsuccessfully to balance work, kids, committees, extended family, our spouse — you know, the typical week for many, many women out there.

It is possible for you to not only live a good life, but to live your best life. Have you ever taken the time to really think about what that means? To dream of what you really want your life to feel like, envision what you will be doing when you have reached your goals.

As I write this today, March 9, it is the one year anniversary of my cancer surgery. The one year anniversary of the beginning of a journey to healing. As I remember it, it’s fuzzy. It’s a blur. I was in a lot of pain prior to my surgery, so I was actually looking forward to getting the surgery.

Can you confidently call yourself an extrovert? Can you say without a doubt that you are an introvert? If you really think about it, you probably cannot definitively choose one with the exclusion of the other. Sure, you might strongly lean one way or the other, but you’re much more complex than that. You are a nuanced, unique person who cannot just fit in one extroverted or introverted box.

I plan constantly. I mean, really all the time. When I’m waking in the morning my mind is playing a movie of getting out of bed, walking to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, deciding what to wear, what to eat, etc. etc. etc. I am constantly 3 steps ahead of any given moment.

I made a simple voice memo the other day. I heard a recording of my voice and it stopped me in my tracks. Brought instant tears to my eyes. You see, I forgot. When I hear my voice in my head, I sound like me. I sound like I have always sounded. But that’s not what I sound like now.

We are all sponges. I recently heard this theory of self-care that resonated with me. When we take care of ourselves, we absorb water like a sponge. Then throughout the day as we navigate life’s tasks of work, family, etc, etc, we are slowly - or quickly - squeezing out the water. Or, more literally, squeezing out our energy, our capacity for work, our good mood, our tolerance for frustration, etc. If we don’t take time to adequately fill our sponge, we won’t have anything left to squeeze out. Alternatively, if our sponge is empty by mid-morning, how do we fill it back up again to make it through the remainder of the day?

Having cancer is like living in a bubble. It’s sleep, wake, doctor’s appointments, repeat. I’m not sure how people manage to work or have any semblance of a life while going through cancer treatment. You’re operating under a new normal that doesn’t feel normal at all. It changes you in ways you don’t expect, and fighting that change is futile. It consumes your thoughts and your energy for anything other than treatment and recovery.

Are you living a good life? How do you know? With which criteria are you measuring a good life? Maybe you generally feel happy most of the time. You and your loved ones are mostly healthy. You have a good marriage, a good job, and generally happy, well-adjusted children.