Life isn’t about the fashion magazine that lies open on the bed, or the box that travels in the truck and holds the newest iPhone. It’s not about the credit card numbers whispered in the dark or the heartless comments on some fifteen-year-old’s post on social media. Life is not about getting to the top or being the winner. Life is not about the celebrities everyone thinks run the world, not about the net worths, like one human life is worth more than another. Life is not about the greed and awful desires. Life is not about the having, or the getting, or the money, or the lies. It’s not about hate.

Life is about climbing trees barefoot, smiling in the sunlight that kisses your face, it’s about the strawberries you pick in the driveway and the fictional books you finish one by one. Life is about the twang of the old guitar, the breath of the sleeping dog. Life is about the good nights and good mornings, the I love you’s and I love you too’s. Life is about the autumn leaves that rustle in the wind, the same wind that blows through your shirt. Life is about the ease of childhood, and the pains of growing up. Life is about poetry and holding hands and bright red roses. Life is about giving. Life is about love.