The Most Important Tool

This week, I witnessed something that I'll remember for a long time.  I saw someone's life change as someone else had theirs ended.  Just a few days ago, I watched a friend of mine, as she opened her email, change from a constantly smiling persona to a crying, shaking mass crumpled on the floor.  She had just learned that her mom, a completely healthy, nearly-retired teacher in her 50s, had tragically died in a car accident.  It was heartbreaking watching her go through this transformation in real-time.  I sat down next to her and listened to anything she wanted to say and in a small way, I could sympathize with her as well.  I told her that I had lost my mother, too.

My Story
When I was 15, after 2 short years of struggling with brain cancer, my mother finally succumbed to the illness.  At the time, of course, it was devastating knowing that the person who carried me and bought me into the world has been taken out of it.  There are no words to adequately describe the emptiness left behind that was once filled by a mother - it's as if the moon suddenly disappeared from Earth.  And for a long time I didn't really know how to process everything.  I was angry with other people because they had the privilege of having something that I didn't.  Or I was sleeping through class because I didn't really see the point in really learning or doing much of anything.  In one year book entry from that year, a person in my Math class signed "You're awake!"  I was 15, soon to be 16 and my life had taken an unexpected turn.

Fortunately for me, there is some part of my personality that never lets me get too out-of-control.  I think it's a general stubbornness inherited from both sides of my gene pool that refuses to give up on anything, even myself, without putting up a fight.  Whenever I felt too apathetic or down, I refused to let that stop me from doing the things I felt were right to do: after sleeping in class, I studied the book at home in private and I made sure that I gave the appearance of normality.  I wasn't 100% OK but at least no one was going to suspect anything.  After about 5 years of fighting for myself, I was finally able to take this singular event of my past and turn it into a positive turning point in my life.

I don't know when it exactly happened, or if there was one specific time when it "clicked", but at some point during my sophomore year of college, my mindset changed.  Instead of focusing on my loss, I realized that I still had my life.  I still had my life to live and I had no idea how long I had to live it.  I, too, could be stricken will a terminal illness at any time or be wiped out by some unfortunate series of events.  I realized that no matter what I did, my time on Earth is limited.  In short, I realized that one day in the (hopefully distant) future, I was going to die. 

This may sound dramatic or fatalistic, but there is a quote from the recently departed Steve Jobs that sums up my thinking perfectly:
 
"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."

Some may think this to be morbid, but I think about this nearly every day of my life.  I think about how I'm spending my time and if it's how I want to be spending it.  In the face of death, making mistakes or failing doesn't really matter because in the end, there's truly nothing to lose.  It's not so hard for me to make the decision sell most of my possessions to go traveling just as it is not so hard to put everything on the line again by moving to Myanmar.  My intuition tells me that it's the right thing to do and that's all that matters.  If in retrospect, it all turns out to be a huge mistake, so what?  I'll just pick up the pieces and follow my heart to where it takes me next knowing that I will be living my life seeking and following my passions.

Right now, in terms of the future for Bessie and I, it means that we will keep forging ahead on the path that seems best for us.  One day that will probably involve children and it may even involve moving back home to stay for a long time.  Or maybe we'll end up in Africa.  It's hard to tell.  We're not attached to the dogma that says "you must travel to be happy" nor are we attached to the dogma that says "you must own a house to be happy."  We're not sure about our future, but we believe that our hearts will lead us to the right places.

Final Thoughts
Back to my grieving friend, I could tell her all of this but it is not the right time.  It was too soon for her to be thinking about the future and besides, it's not what she needs at this point.  But I know there will be some day soon when the sadness and the hurt aren't as immediate.  The place of her mind that was once flooded by the sorrow will be filled with the question "Now what?"  After all that she's gone through, she'll have to decide how she's going to carry on knowing that her life won't be the same. 

Unfortunately, I can't help her out on the specifics of her future, as she has to do that.  All I can say is to listen to your inner voice, especially at this time, because with so much taken away from you, you will be left thinking about what is really important in your life.  If you follow what that voice says, you can't go wrong.