“If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.” — Émile Zola

Many of us consider before we act, look before we leap, weigh risks and assess odds and all sorts of things that keep us out of trouble, but also keep us from doing the stuff of life. Be bold, I say, but don’t be reckless. That caveat makes all the difference between a life lived out loud and a quietly stable life that’s good enough to pass the deathbed test.

We all want to sing that old Sinatra song out loud, shouting we did it our way, with too few regrets to mention, but most of us will keep a mental ledger of the things we didn’t do anyway. We believe that it’s the things we do that get us into trouble and opt for the safer regret of not having leapt into the stormy sea. Consider it a moral victory? Sure, if it helps. We may be present in the commitments we’ve made in our lives while still living as an example of how much more living one might do if we’d just turn up the volume.

I used to write about places I wanted to go in my lifetime, only to see people in my life go to those places while I stayed behind. I found myself chagrined by others doing the thing I’d wanted to do, someday. Was the chagrin aimed at them or myself? We all know that comparison is a fool’s game and a joy killer. It’s on us to make bold plans and to act upon them. Part of growing wiser (if not yet wise) is learning to stop talking about what we’re going to do and just go do it. That, friend, makes us more interesting to others, but especially to ourselves.

What did you do today?” is a far better question to answer than “What are you going to do today?” So I won’t tell you where I’m going next, what my plans are for the future, or even what I’m going to do today; but I may just write about it afterwards. Or simply use the time to move on to the next thing beyond the limit of what was once considered a stretch. To live a wee bit louder is the aim; may my aim be true.