With my feet in the sand I feel grounded, centered and here. The consciousness of the moment prompts me to ruminate on how many days pass us by on autopilot. How often do we cross paths with others experiencing this day, the same day that feels as mundane and simple as so many others, but it’s a day they will never forget? Whenever I’m in a moment where I am disconnected—somewhere in the past or in the future, both equal parts far away, both places that either I can not change or I have no control over, I look around me. Other people are anchors. All of these faces around me, living, being, and I have no idea how special or how inconsequential this current day is to them. Is it just Friday? Or is it the day on the beach they built a sand castle with Dad? Their first time on a jet ski? The first time they saw the ocean? The last? The day they spent from sun up to sun down on their jellyfish boogey board, reveling in saltwater and sweet summer air?

This moment could be a place that holds them eternally. My ordinary day is also a place that houses someone’s memory that is so special it will carry them through a future time that feels impossible.

Right now I can see a father holding his daughter. She is sound asleep amongst the sounds of the beach that are vibrant, cyclical and alive. The shrieks of joy in the lapping waves and the laughter amongst friends are merely background noise. All she knows is her father’s heartbeat, and that she is safe and loved in his arms. It is always these moments we miss. But I don’t want to. I want to to take the time to see them, even just a little clearer when I can. I want to witness your “one wild and precious life” (Mary Oliver). You deserve to be seen. We all do.

And suddenly my day, in the sea of all these faces of strangers whose stories I do not know and I will not know; I feel held too. I feel not so far from the things that I want, love, dream of and wish for. I feel not so far from all of the smaller memories who make me who I am.

I feel human and okay.

When I think about the ways this regular day to me is unforgettable to someone else—it feels good. It just does. And I don’t know what it means to be human, and we can philosophize on that until the end of time, but what I do know is how I feel when I look at anyone and wish for them to feel joy and hope, and that feels pretty close to what we’re supposed to strive for. I want you to be free, to shine, to smile. Let this day and all the days that you can, be worth it.