Op-Ed: A Life Lived Lightly, With Purpose

Finding Light in Loss

There’s a certain magic in not taking yourself too seriously. It sounds simple, almost trivial — like advice you’d find scribbled on a coffee shop chalkboard — but it may be one of the most profound ways to honor the time we get on this earth. And lately, the meaning behind it has felt heavier, and also more freeing, than ever.

A year ago, my family lost someone irreplaceable — a dear cousin who was bright, unbelievably talented, generous with humor, and the kind of person who could make a room lighter just by walking into it. He had a spark that made life feel fun, an energy that reminded us to loosen up, laugh big, and enjoy our moments. His absence is a reminder of how fragile life can be, and how deeply someone can be loved even if they’re hurting in ways we can’t see.

The Perspective Grief Brings

Grief leaves a permanent mark. It presses into the quiet moments, sits beside us at dinner, catches us off guard in the aisles of grocery stores when a memory sneaks through. But grief also sharpens perspective. It makes us notice — really notice — how precious the laughter is. How electric it feels to belly-laugh until your face hurts, to dance in a kitchen, to send a ridiculous text that brightens someone’s day, to stop mid-walk and breathe in the simplicity of just being here.

And in that noticing, there is a choice: we can let the pain weigh us down, or we can let the love lift us up.

Choosing Joy On Purpose

I’ve chosen to laugh more — loud, unpolished, sometimes tear-streaked laughs that feel like both release and celebration. I’ve chosen to not take myself so seriously, to shrug off small embarrassments, to stop worrying so much about how something looks and instead focus on how it feels. I’ve chosen to say yes to joy, even on days when it feels complicated to reach for it.

I think of him every day, and sometimes I swear I still hear his laugh — that big, contagious one that made everything feel lighter. Remembering that sound reminds me to live in a way that keeps joy alive, not just for me, but for him too.

Because the truth is, life is complicated. It is beautiful and unfair, joyful and heartbreaking, often all at the same time. We can’t control every outcome or carry every burden neatly. But we can choose how we move through it. We can choose openness over perfection, silliness over self-judgment, connection over isolation. We can choose to take the picture, sing the song, wear the glitter, go on the adventure, call the friend, forgive quicker, and give grace generously — to others and to ourselves.

Laughter as Tribute

In an era where seriousness is worn like armor, where achievement often feels like obligation, and where the pressure to “have it together” sits heavy on shoulders everywhere, maybe the boldest thing we can do is laugh. Truly laugh. Laugh in the face of inconvenience. Laugh at our mistakes. Laugh purely because joy is not something to be rationed — it’s something to be lived in.

That laughter doesn’t ignore pain. It acknowledges it and rises anyway. It becomes a tribute. A way of saying: you mattered, you still matter, and I will live fully because you no longer can. I will honor your life by savoring mine.

Living Deeply, Lightly, Loudly

So here’s to embracing the ridiculous and the meaningful. To letting go of the constant urge to perform and perfect. To being present enough to witness our own lives with gratitude. And to remembering that sometimes the greatest act of courage is simply choosing to show up as ourselves — messy, hopeful, imperfect, laughing through it all.

If you’re reading this and life feels heavy, I hope you find room for levity today. I hope you laugh at something silly. I hope you call someone who lifts you up. I hope you remember you don’t have to carry anything alone.

And for the ones we miss — the ones who made joy look easy, like my cousin — may our laughter echo theirs. May it fill the spaces they once brightened. May it honor them, always.

Life is brief. Let’s live it deeply, lightly, loudly. Let’s laugh without restraint, love without fear, and remember that the most meaningful legacy might simply be making life feel a little lighter for the people who share it with us.