Leap boldly into your day.
Twenty four extra hours to live fully, love deeply.
Strive for goals that seem further away than the day you determined to succeed.
Breathe and eat and rest through a day special and yet the same as all the others.
Argue, protest, scare yourself with your anger, because there are those powerless and too weak to do so for themselves.
Create, rend, reinvent that which you no longer wish to carry.
Honor and rebel against tradition and expectations–yours and others.’
Leap Day is a strange surprise in the calendar. Once every four years, a whole ‘nother day, and unless it’s your birthday, not a lot of direction on what to do with it. Aside from playing leap frog all day, the best suggestion I found to celebrate was to take a picture. So we did.
The fun thing about Leap Day is that it occurs just seldom enough to be special but often enough to a repeated occurrence in our lives (Lord willing, as we say in the South). Four years from now, my son will be in school. My daughter will count her age in the double digits. Josie Junebug, of course, will no longer be a puppy.
And what about me? Hopefully, I’ll be on book tour for my latest best-selling novel. Perhaps I’ll be waking to the sounds of waves crashing outside the window. (Awesome vacation waves, not end of the world tsunami waves.)
In four years, who will be our President? Will we have made any progress in race relations or peace in the Middle East? Will our oceans be any cleaner or the bees have made a come back? What planets will mankind have traveled to?
Aside from the promise of entertaining the world with my literature, what else will I have accomplished? What strangers will I have fed? How many children will I have comforted? How invasive will my footprint be on the Earth?
In the comments, share any unique Leap Day traditions you have and what you hope the picture of your life will look like at the next Leap Year.