I have been graced with the extraordinary opportunity to assist people as old as 94 with writing their life stories. Some struggle with neurological deterioration, dementia or Alzheimers, yet they remember so much when I mindfully step aside and allow them space and time to process their experiences. 

Today, a person in an assisted living facility recalled the feeling of running through the sprinkler hose in the front yard with her younger brother 80 years ago. She was 7 and he was 4. We high-fived each other as the miracle of re-experiencing this ordinary moment in a childhood summer sunk in. 

I want to encourage all of my dear friends and family members to make time to remember their life, to recall the everyday moments that in retrospect, are so wonderful that it's sometimes hard to believe they were real. I want to remind you to ask your parents and grandparents about their life. 

We tend to tell our stories through the lens of big events and impressive accomplishments, but the truth is that ordinary everyday happenings are often the most incredible memories of all. 

Can you remember the feeling of summer as a young child? Do you remember the warmth of the sun on your belly, the cold splash into a neighborhood pool? I remember my mom's ice tea mixed with lemonade and orange juice and I remember my grandma's freezer with chocolate-covered Eskimo pie ice cream bars. 

Since I am a writer, I spend time describing these experiences in detail, recalling the sound of unwrapping the freezing foil, the crunch of that first cold bite, and the effort it took me to slow down and make it last. I try my best to recall the way it felt, the way my grandma grew impatient as I tried my best to slow down time before I was shooed downstairs to join my brothers in the basement for a game of war. My grandpas wooden swing was our plane - we had a real world war II gas mask at our disposal as well. 

I find it helpful to remember that my hike today in a nearby park is more likely to bring me a joyful memory in old age than a big trip or a fabulous reception for my next book. These thoughts ground me in the present moment and remind me that making wonderful memories is worth the time it takes to remember to remember as I experience each moment of every day. 

I believe that an unexamined life is a missed opportunity for a richly rewarding experience at the very least.

While the modern push to move forward joins the constant shaming admonishments to stop looking in the rearview mirror, I want to be the voice of encouragement for you to look back as frequently as possible, to remember the magical views you experienced as a child, to recall the mistakes you made as a teenager and the brilliant flashes of fun, along with the trauma, the love, the heartbreaks, the stupid risks and all the stuff that happens in a human life. 

Your breath and your life is a temporary gift that won't last forever. Use it once in awhile to remember YOU, to befriend yourself. Get to know the parts of you that feel like a loser, and the part that's so arrogant she thinks she can't misstep. Get to know the voice that shames you as well as the voice that provides unconditional love. If you do this, you will never be alone, since you have befriended yourself.

Self-confidence is essentially self-trust. We rarely "confide" in people we don't know. Self-doubt is a painful block to healthy choices and a natural result of our failure to befriend ourselves. One of the greatest joys in life is to trust yourself and your ability to make choices. This is difficult if you don't know yourself. This trust in one's self might be the missing piece that makes an unexamined life so painful at times. 

I am working on loving every single part of me so that I can love every single part of you. 

One day, our memories will be all we have. And we will be glad if we can remember the feeling of a childhood summer, and the heartbreak of our first crush. Without practice, we will probably lose whole parts of our life to an aging brain. Without asking, we might lose the chance to really know our elders. 

Mary