How Personal Growth Stories Inspire Us to Be Present & Mindful
Delicate yet strong, life reminds us to notice the little moments and stay present for what truly matters.
My grandfather, Julio Cesar Cardona Sr., was a strong and introspective man…
who taught me lessons about resilience and mindfulness in everyday life. He was also hard on his children. By the time I came along, he was still stern. He left for work early, came home to his room, joined dinner only to speak when necessary, and then retreated upstairs (google “lessons from family trauma”).
At four years old, I was convinced he was in his room being a vampire. Then he had a stroke. Something shifted. He cracked jokes. He spent more time with family. He laughed occasionally and lingered longer at the table. His story reminds me every day of why being present and mindful matters.
It was after he passed that I decided to let my hair grow as a way to honor him. I miss our talks.
Life is so Precious
My mother is a charming, independent, brilliant woman…
who embodies personal growth stories and courage. She escaped an abusive home as a teenager and carved her own path, raising her siblings, buying a house, and building her own business. Her journey is one of the most inspiring family stories about resilience I’ve ever known. Years later her husband, my bonus father, faced a serious health scare. At the most frightening moment this do-it-herself woman told my sister “I don’t know what I would do without him.” That moment taught me about appreciating life’s fragility and about how to live fully every day.
Life is so Precious.
My biological father is a headstrong man and one of the most reliable hard workers I know…
who once managed a nightclub in Florida. One night a man was stabbed. My father held him, trying to stop the bleeding, but the man died in his arms. When he told me the next day his eyes carried a grief I had never seen before.
Life is so Precious.
So why do we wait to wake up?
Why does it take a stroke, a stabbing, or a sudden loss to feel alive and connected? Why do we need natural disasters or celebrity deaths to remind us to hug harder, laugh louder, and truly notice the little moments?
Traffic feels selfish until the ambulance siren wails and suddenly everyone cooperates to make room.
The next person who enters the room carries an entire lifetime of experiences. Can we pause and notice them? Not judge, fix, or compare. Just appreciate the miracle of their being and the beauty of life’s fragility.
We are all like that image above, an egg holding up books. Both delicate and strong at the same time.
Whether each moment cracks or holds steady, life is precious.