On the way home tonight, I thought of a letter I should write to my children.

Be unique.

Be exceptional.

Be unbearably quirky, undeniably different, inexorably intimate.

Wear clothes that make you more like you and less like others.

Wear a derby hat-because no one else does.

Wear pink pants with a green shirt because you can.

Sing songs seldom sung.

Sing harmony.

Sing out of key.

Learn to whistle while you’re young and practice often.

Make everyday more joyful, and contagiously inflict joy upon your world.

Save all your change and dine exquisitely for just one night.

Smell the things around you.

Do something different,

Something weird,

Something dangerous.

Do something that others can laugh at and laugh with them laughing at you.

In all that you do, question why you do it.

Mark this world while you are here.

Mark it with beauty.

Mark it with passion.

In all that you do, leave your mark, and relentlessly refuse to be slightly better than your peers.

Live life like love was never lost.

Love again.

And again.

And again.

And again, until you

Call those that never call you.

Befriend the friendless.

Refuse at all costs to be average.

Be extraordinary.

I would say all of this knowing that I am helplessly average.