I met Mike on a trip to the Southwest last summer. He introduced himself to me and my friend from the driver seat of a giant, dust-covered Jeep. We were the only two people signed up for his last tour that day. Instead of taking us on the quickest route, Mike gave us a special tour through the Sedona, Arizona red rock cliffs and mountains, customizing the experience to our physical abilities and interests. Simply put: we went off-roading!

Along with tales of the early settlers, John Wayne’s production studio, and the desert ecosystem, Mike shared with us his love for the red rock country. With 30 years of a busy city lifestyle behind them, Mike and his wife were new to the area, living out their retirement in the middle of the Sedona desert. Together they hike trails on the weekend and watch the stars each night from their back porch. In his spare time, Mike gives Jeep tours so he can share his new-found love with visitors from around the world.

I listened to his story as I looked at the jaw-dropping scenery before me and wondered at the culmination of so much success and joy. Mike and his wife weren’t just living a good life – they were living their best life.

“Wow. These people are truly are living their best life!” I said to myself as I looked out over the red rock valley from the top of a ridge. “I can’t wait to live my best life! What can I do to get there?”

Almost as soon as I asked myself this question, I stopped. The view before me seemed to say my name in a gentle rebuke. 

“Mary! Forget about where you’re going for a minute and live this moment! Your best life isn’t out there, it’s right here.”

The sight before me grounded my heart while my head started wandering. Here I was, standing in the middle of the Sedona desert, learning about the agave plant, javalinas, and prickly pear cactus. Here I was, exploring a new world of red rock a the disposal of a flaming pink jeep with a sunset peeking through the clouds. Here I was, living, breathing, and thriving.

I was surrounded by the best landscape, accompanied by the best of friends, hiking in the best of health, and launching into some of my life’s best adventures. And instead of sharing in the awe and wonder of this moment, I was wandering off into a jungle of later’s. I was getting too caught up in the future to enjoy the present moment. And do you know what? I do that almost every. single. day. 

---

The “best life” proposition is one that surrounds me daily in a thousand ways. It is usually associated with a sales pitch of some sort: a billboard for an allergy medication, an ad for a retirement home, or a video on the latest workout routine. Social media feeds are saturated with people serving their best meals, working their best jobs, decorating the best homes, and going to the best schools.

As a marketing professional, I see the false advertising in the “best life,” and I often fall into its trap, considering “this moment” as insufficient. After all – I’m not always standing in front of a red rock masterpiece. Sometimes, I’m standing before efforts wasted, resources untapped, challenges unaccepted – all while eating cereal for dinner. That’s right. Sometimes there’s very little “best life” going on in my world. 

The reality is, that is what my life looks like sometimes. And do you know what? I wouldn’t be here without the less-than-sufficient moments. Even my best failures, best pain, and best disappointments contribute to making me the person I am today – in this moment.  Through the mercy and love of God, they prompt me toward the greatest joys, unexpected achievements, and the holiest of people. 

---

On our way home from the off-roading adventure that day, Mike stopped the Jeep suddenly and walked over to a prickly pear cactus on the side of the road. He stooped down, picked something up with the edge of his pocket knife and walked to the back of the truck. He looked very excited.

“Hold out your hand,” he said to me with a somewhat reverent tone. I obeyed and found myself holding what seemed to be a small piece of thickly strung spider web. Mike told me to take the palm of my hand with the substance and hit it on my forehead. I hesitated. In fact, I protested (there is a limit to my trust in a stranger). So we compromised and I clapped my hands together, instead.

When I opened my palms, I found a red blood-like substance pooling on my skin. “That,” Mike said with awe, “is one of the most expensive, rarest forms of red dye in the world. That is cochineal.” I picked up a few important details from Mike’s subsequent explanation of the substance. All I heard was: expensive, rare, and made from bugs.

A wave of emotions flooded over me: gratitude that I hadn’t smashed raw bugs on my forehead, awe at the history of this highly sought-after treasure, and disgust at the fact that I had bug juice dripping all over my hands. 

That, my friends, is what living our best lives is all about. Sometimes, it shows itself in wonder and awe, treasure and joy. Other times, it is hidden in the midst of pain, sin, and suffering. But it is there – the cochineal – even in the bug-smashed-in-your-hands kind of messy.

The next time you are caught up in the messy, the mundane, or the jungle of “later’s” take a moment to stop and remember the big picture – that red rock desert view. Remember that you are surrounded by a landscape of gifts and goodness and that the deeply rooted desire for God and mission to sanctity is the heart of what makes your life the best.

Don’t be like me and take the risk of missing out on something beautiful because you’re too busy wondering about where you’re going, instead. Take time to thank God for the now and every moment that brought you to it.

And know that all of it – from the dishes you wash to the smile you exchange with another, are a part of what makes you the irreplaceable love in the heart of God. 

It’s all a part of what makes the life you live right now – the best life.

Love, Mary

“God would never inspire me with desires which cannot be realized; so in spite of my littleness, I can hope to be a saint.” – St. Therese of Lisieux