The Japanese concept of Ikigai (pronounced ee key guy) translates to a “reason for being,” or “reason to get up in the morning,” and is comparable to the likely more familiar French term raison d’etre. The literal translation of Ikigai is the “happiness of being busy.”

I know I can't call her for the recipe. I started to. I know I can't call to tell her the cutest thing my daughter just did. I know there's no need to set an extra plate for dinner. I know he's not here to teach my husband his woodworking skills, and I hate all of that. I know. Yet, my heart tells me to call, to talk, to share, to learn.

I always liked asking participants in the support groups I led, “What is your favorite season of the year?” or “What was your favorite age?” You learn a lot about people with those questions. Most everyone had a preferred season, and some had a preferred age, stating, for example, they “loved being in their 30’s, when the kids were little.” Others said they enjoyed all the seasons and liked their current age.

She told me the story of her grandson’s death. He was five and the favorite of her four grandchildren. It was a tragic accident – too horrifying to recount the details here. She shared those details in my Beginning Again grief group a year after his death. Even though it was many years ago, I’ll never forget her story. And I will never forget her response to his death.

The Cambridge Dictionary defines “back to basics” as returning to the simple and most important things. Another definition suggests it’s paying attention to the simplest and most important matters after ignoring them for a while.

Samia Hasan is a career development coach for millennials and has outlined tips related to simplifying life and getting back to basics. I think they’re relevant to all of us, especially after being confronted with a life-threatening diagnosis or other traumatic life event. Here are her suggestions and my thoughts about each.

Looking back, I suspect I lived a good portion of my life in chronic fear… fear of not being good enough, fear of failure, fear of disappointing someone, fear of others’ opinions, fear of financial dependency or ruin, fear of being homeless, fear of deep water, and those are the fears that immediately come to mind.

The medical assistant took his blood pressure. “What was it?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he said. “They didn’t tell me.” My father was raised in the era when you did what the doctor told you, no questions asked, like most people in his generation.

This quote has been our immediate family mantra for at least the past 25 years. There are similar versions of this quote, but I was told this particular quote was from the Lakota Sioux. It’s a simple saying that’s concise, clear, and at first glance – easy. But this is one of the most powerful and difficult maxims I’ve come across.

I sit on my deck in the mountains watching my flowers: petunias, geraniums, daisies, moss rose, dianthus, salvia, marigolds, snapdragons, begonias, pansies, and a number of dainty Colorado blossoms whose names I don’t know. I’ve spent hours observing their beauty and patterns of behavior. I’ve learned a lot about life, and myself, from being with my flowers. Here’s what I’ve learned: