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Blame it on my elder millennial, 2010s-era post-college phase, but I cannot shake a few, uh, #girlboss tendencies. Like the desire to turn every hobby into a side hustle. And a strange love of self-improvement books. And—maybe this is more to combat an ever-present sense of existential dread—but goal-setting too. There’s an entire section of this site devoted to finding fulfillment, after all.
So naturally, when I saw Business Made Simple‘s Donald Miller had released a book on building a meaningful life, I couldn’t borrow it from the library fast enough. Hero on a Mission is a straightforward, fast read that provides a few simple truths:
- There are times when you may be a true victim of circumstances, and there are times when you will be behaving as a victim, using it as an excuse to keep yourself from trying and going after what you really want. Acknowledging and shifting your mindset to what you can control when you face the latter is the only way you’ll move forward. Otherwise, life simply happens to you.
- Your goals should be so audacious they’re embarrassing. Maybe they’re a little cringe-y. That’s OK. If you’re worried people may wonder who you think you are to want something like that—or think you can do that—let them. You can’t control what they think or feel anyway; why give them power over the course of your life and your happiness?
- If you want to get clear on what you truly want, you need to write your own eulogy. Today. And then a 10-, 5- and 1-year plan to get you closer to what you laid out in it.
That last one may give you pause. It did for me. It’s a bit daunting, because writing how your life ends is morbid (aren’t we always trying to avoid considering that inevitable conclusion? why force it?), and the task itself is grandiose: How can you possibly commit to the entire course of your life?!

I put it off while reading the book, and all the while, the exercise needled the back of my mind. 2025 has been the hardest year for me to craft my annual goals—something I’ve done for 15+ years straight—because I am struggling to identify what I want. Could writing my eulogy help?
Rather than overthink it, I pushed myself to freeform write, on a blank page in my Laurel Denise planner. No walling up in a chic coffee shop with a fancy pen and a vision board and a custom playlist; no pomp and circumstance. Just write and see what flows.
Spoiler: It was vague and meandering.
But insightful.
I’ve had a handful of side projects I’ve wanted to pursue seriously for years. Which ones would be strong enough to be part of the paragraph or two that sums up my existence? What themes would emerge?
I kept reminding myself was that nothing was etched in stone; this was sloppy shorthand in the back of a planner! It could all change tomorrow.
But for now, I’ll sit with it.
As I wrote, I also realized my pen was heavily swayed with a sense of what people would think. After all, this is an exercise in how you’d like to be remembered, which means it can easily veer into people-pleasing territory, where you’re writing what you think would comfort those you love—or what would make you seem prestigious, important or worthy of mass adoration…instead of what you really want.
Carving away those things was a challenge, and one worth considering if you write your eulogy. The thing I kept reminding myself was that nothing was etched in stone; this was sloppy shorthand in the back of a planner, for crying out loud! It could all change tomorrow.
But for now, I’ll sit with it. See how it feels, and start mapping out the 10-year plan. And the 5-year. And the year from now.
Part of Miller’s exercise is that you review all four each day, so that when you sit down to tackle that day’s tasks, you have your priorities top of mind. How will you spend today’s hours? What might bring you closer to that person you want to be known for being?
Immediately, it reshaped my day. Meetings became more important; taking the time to invest in people, rather than my tendency to churn out as much content as possible. As compelled as I am to write, write, write, those words are here for a moment, gone in an algorithm change (or SEO audit). Writing is part of my end goal, but it’s not the end goal.
Turns out, as much as I love Double Decker Tacos, I don’t want to be known as the Queen of Taco Bell Reviews. Go figure!
In case you’re curious, here’s what I scrawled on that planner page. I plan on refining it further, but for now, I’m trying it on for size. Maybe someday, someone will stumble upon this after I’m gone, and it will feel haunting. When I reread it, I cringe initially at how earnest it is, but I’m grateful for that vulnerability.
And above all, I hope someday (far, far, far from now) that it feels spot-on for who I’ve become and the impact I’ve had.
My Eulogy
Throughout her time on this planet, Candace encouraged creativity and wonder, inspiring a life of world-building, storytelling and curiosity-following in her children and those around her. As the founder of Life Between Weekends, she strove to help people make everyday moments magical—without ignoring our challenges, but rather face them head-on, with an open heart, a sense of grit and grace (and ok, a smattering of humor).
She loved her family deeply, valuing quality time and care above accolades. As her children grew, so did her perspective on the power of community, particularly in developing one wherever you are—even among people countries apart.
She raised $1 million for charity—both scholarships and food donations for those in need—while running a successful lifestyle brand and candle business. Candace loved yoga, baking and teaching Generation Pound classes for kids, despite her complete lack of rhythm and overall athletic ability. She proved it’s okay to mess up; the reward is in the attempt, not the outcome.
Candace is the author of five cookbooks, as well as a best-selling planner and fulfillment journal series, and a set of otherworldly novels scribed under a pen name that’s only to be revealed in the year 2187. Or unless her kids get a fat paycheck for leaking the info early to the tabloids.
xx,
Me
You can pick up a copy of Hero on a Mission at most major bookstores, on Amazon or at your local library. Miller also offers templates to write out your eulogy—and his multi-year plans and daily planner—for free at HeroOnaMission.com.
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