In the theatre, we call it "The Illusion of the First Time." It’s the art of pretending you don’t know what’s coming next, even when you’ve said the same lines 400 times. I’ve been thinking about how this applies to more than just Hamlet. It’s about how we show up for the people we love—offering presence and a little honest suspense, even when we’ve heard the story before. Because sometimes, the journey matters more than the ending.

If you could relive one day of your life, which would you choose? For my latest essay, I’m looking at why the "ordinary" days are actually the ones worth savoring.