The Best Day of Your Life Might Be Today

There are days when I wake up and nothing feels particularly magical. The sky is the same soft grey. The kettle is slow for no reason. The world looks ordinary. But then a small moment interrupts me. A glimmer. A bird landing lightly on the fence. A scent of rosemary drifting through the kitchen window. A sudden awareness in my chest that today isn’t just another day. Today could be something different if I’m willing to see it.

In my herbal medicine studies we’ve been learning about how plants respond to stress. Some endure harsh winds, poor soil, scorching sun, cold snaps. And here’s the part that stopped me: these stresses don’t weaken the plant’s medicine. They deepen it. A lavender grown in rocky, exposed ground often produces a more complex essential oil. A chamomile that has battled dryness carries certain compounds more intensely. The environment shapes them. Their hardships shape their healing. The plant offers what it had to overcome.

And honestly, that’s been sitting with me. That maybe our storms aren’t just things we survive. Maybe they’re crafting the very gifts we’re meant to carry.

There’s a line in the book of James that whispers to me every time I read it: your life is like a mist. A breath. A vapour that disappears on a crisp winter morning. That’s it. That’s your whole life. And far from feeling bleak, that thought actually stirs something fierce in me. It reminds me that I’ve been planted here, in this exact moment in time, with my exact set of gifts and loves and experiences. The book of Hebrews phrases it like being plucked out of eternity and positioned with purpose. Almost handed a baton. And the quiet question follows: what will I do with this breath of a life?

Lately, I’ve been thinking about humility. Not the kind where you shrink yourself to keep others comfortable. I’m talking about living with a heart posture that isn’t obsessed with being seen. The kind of humility that says: I’m here to serve, not to perform. I’m here to grow, not to compete. I’m here to offer what I’ve learned, not hide it because someone once misunderstood me or rejected me.

So many of us hide our greatness because of a wound. A comment. An opinion. A moment of rejection. But pain isn’t a prophecy. Don’t let what hurt you make you hate. Don’t let what disappointed you make you disappear. The gifts planted in you were proportioned on purpose. They’re not accidental. And they’re not to be buried.

There’s a verse about refreshing others and being refreshed in return. I’ve found that to be true in the smallest ways. When I shift my attention toward offering something good to the world, I soften. My shoulders lower. My perspective widens. And gratitude follows quickly behind, like breath after breath.

Maybe that’s why the line seek and you will find hits differently these days. Not as a rule. Not as a warning. More like a gentle truth about being human. If I look for reasons today might be the best day of my life, I find them. If I look for tiny glimmers, I collect them. If I look for the bad, it’s always waiting. But if I look for the good... it grows.

Where attention goes, energy flows. And the storm only wins when I stare at it long enough to forget that storms always pass.

If you’re reading this, maybe you needed someone to remind you that this week could be the best week of your life. Even if nothing dramatic happens. Even if the skies stay grey. It could be the week you decide to stop hiding. The week you choose to look for goodness again. The week you give thanks for the breath in your chest. The week you treat your own heart with gentleness instead of suspicion.

And while you’re tending to your own rituals of care, you’re always welcome to weave in the little tools we create at The Wild Remedy. My favourite thing about the magnesium butter, the sleep spray, and the candles isn’t using them for myself. It’s knowing they help someone else pause, breathe, soften, and reconnect. They’re offerings, in a way. Little acts of service wrapped in amber glass, essential oils, and eco-friendly wax. A reminder that peace is something we can choose more often than we realise.

If you’re craving deeper community, you’re welcome in the Wild Circle. If you want to mark a moment, gift something meaningful to yourself or someone else. If you want to gather your favourite people, we’re running seasonal workshops again. Perfect for a group of friends, a special occasion, or even a wellbeing day at work. There’s something powerful about creating with your hands, surrounded by nature’s pace, remembering who you are beneath the noise.

And soon, you’ll be able to get our new Intentional Day journal. I’ve poured so much of this heart work into it. A companion to help you look for glimmers, choose gentleness, name gratitude, and honour the gift of the day you’ve been given.

Wherever you are reading this, I hope today gives you at least one reason to whisper to yourself: maybe this really is the best day of my life. One small moment. One glimmer. One turning of the heart.

Seek, and you will find.

A gentle ritual to close your day
If you want to turn these reflections into something practical, here’s a simple evening ritual inspired by my herbal studies and the rhythms of nature.

Find a quiet moment and warm a teaspoon of magnesium butter between your palms. Massage it slowly into your shoulders, your chest, or over your pulse points. While doing this, name three things from your day that softened you or surprised you. Not big things. Small glimmers. A colour. A conversation. A moment of clarity. Let your ribcage expand a little on the inhale.

Then light one of your favourite eco therapeutic candles, sit with the flame for a minute or two, and ask yourself a question borrowed from the book of James: what is your life? What do you want the mist of today to mean? What gift or goodness did you offer the world, even quietly?

Lastly, spritz your pillow or the air around you with your sleep spray and release one thing you don’t want to carry into tomorrow.

That’s it. A simple ritual. A way of tending your heart posture. A way of reminding yourself that storms pass, glimmers remain, and your life, even as a breath, is precious.

A simple, soulful sign-off
Here’s to seeking and finding,

Bee