Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and youāre 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didnāt go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? Itās going to break your heart. Donāt let this happen.
Anne Lamott Ā (via unlively)










