It’s been a chilly grey day. Windy earlier, rainy now. Even here in Florida, where it’s bound to be warm and sunny in a couple of days, it’s enough to affect one’s mood.

January is always a strange time for me. Twenty five years ago on a bright January morning a surgeon told me I had too much cancer to be treated and would die within two years.

It took eight surgeries and many chemotherapy and radiation treatments over 3+ years to prove him wrong. Like many cancer survivors, I still wait for the other shoe to drop. Even 25 years later, I still have to take an anti-cancer drug every day, and I still worry.

I probably write about this every year. I certainly think about it. January is a month full of memories that come rushing at me like a waterfall. I am fortunate to have had so many Januaries since then. Seventeen years ago on a January morning my diploma arrived, acknowledging the master’s degree I’d just earned in Jewish education. Seven years ago in mid-month I was ordained as a Rabbi.

Best of all, every January I get to celebrate that I lived to see my daughters grow from small children into accomplished women of whom I am immensely proud.

It may be that you too have experienced terrible trauma that changed the course of your life. Few of us escape this life untouched by tragedy. Everyone carries a burden, an ache, a loss, a wound, something that reshaped their very being.

I’ve learned a couple of things over these many years. Chief among them is that change is inevitable. Go with it. Life is full of unexpected twists and turns. Keep your heart and mind open to new people and experiences. But always, always be true to yourself and your core values.

Be grateful. Be ready to drop to your knees because the world is just that beautiful.

Be kind. Say please, thank you, and I’m sorry when the moment arises. Kindness has healing properties for those who bestow it and those who receive it.

Be alive. Because one day you won’t. So today, be alive.