Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you are angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.
Oh my God, what if you wake up one day, and you’re 64 or 75, and you never got your memoir or written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were too jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.