What is one day worth?

Everything.

I’ve been thinking about writing this piece now for a few weeks. I knew that May 28^th would come, but I wondered what it might bring.

I pondered what my goal was in writing about the event of one year ago. The hit and run accident. Which at the time was the most horrific experience I could imagine.

How unlucky was I to pull this card from the deck?

I worried about the clever hook needed to get people to read it.

But read what? What needed to be written and said? I was unsure.

I went over and over it and round and round until I finally told myself to set it all aside. On May 28^th, today, I settled on just writing and let whatever comes, come.

You see, I was not profoundly unlucky on May 28th.

On the contrary.

I didn’t draw the wrong card on that fateful day.

I drew exactly the right card.

I want to start this piece, not where I thought I would start it.

I want to start by asking you a question…

“What would happen if you were not here?”

Seems like a simple question, right?

If you suddenly and unexpectedly ceased to exist and tomorrow you were not here to do your job, to live your life, to spend time with your family or friends, what would happen? Really?

You might be missed terribly. You might not. Yes, your children and spouse would be traumatized, as everyone’s family is. Because everybody dies. I am talking beyond the obvious and immediate though.

Would the world quietly fill in the gap of your absence like a hole dug in wet sand on the beach?

What was the value of your being here in the first place?

Let’s rephrase the question.

“What should happen because you are here? “

Can you answer that question with total honesty? With depth?

Maybe you don’t know, which is okay.

If you can answer, ask yourself this.

“Is the juice worth the squeeze?”

You may not understand the question entirely or its profound importance. Two years ago, I probably didn’t. In fact, I know I didn’t.

The question is why we are here?

Do we have a purpose beyond just living our life and the immediate gratification from what’s solidly around us?

We are not here to post our accomplishments to LinkedIN. Or to curate a fake life on Instagram as a salve to cover the gaps found in reality. We are not here to acquire a new sports car better than the one our neighbor has or to do whatever it takes to make another $100k.

If you are spending your time focused on such endeavors, then you are squandering the two gifts you, like all of us, have been given.

The greater reality that intertwines our lives is greater than what we can see, touch or even imagine.

What gifts you ask?

Gift One. The gift of time.

Gift Two. The gift of choice.

To choose to do something meaningful with Gift One.

We can all choose to do something only our heart knows is worthwhile.

But too often we’ve forgotten how to listen to that voice. The voice in our head is too loud and constantly on. It tells. It guilts. It doesn’t guide as the heart does.

Why? It doesn’t care.

Your head will always argue and second guess. It confuses fact with fiction. The heads perception is the reality it wants, regardless of what is.

Your head will tell you to stay in the shallow end of the pool but that isn’t where the value is.

The heart knows the real value is found in the deep end. In the depth. You just have to be willing to swim out there, where you can’t touch or see the bottom. That is where uncertainty resides and where choices are the most profound.

On May 28^th, one year ago from today, I flatlined. No respiration or vital signs after a hit and run accident while out training for a bike race.

On May 28^th, for a period of time, I was no longer here. I was there. And the distance between here and there is not that far.

I won’t recount the details of that incident. That isn’t the point of this piece.

The point is when I came back to this world, I was unsure what had happened over the previous hour since being hit. I just knew that at that moment, I was awake, and things were very, very, very bad.

I didn’t know I had died (until later), I just knew that outcome was a high likelihood, and I didn’t know how much longer I had to remain awake. To live. All I had was that moment of the ‘now’ and that ‘now’ became very precious.

When you are lying in a ditch all alone on a remote country road, knowing you are perhaps mortally wounded, your world gets very small. Things get very tight. There is no pain. Yet. So, you have what is called ‘a moment of clarity.’

What you think about is simple. Time and choices. At least that is what I thought about.

I thought there would be more time.

I realized I was not in control. I could not bargain myself out of this. I could not will myself past it. I could not ignore it. I could not rewind the clock and tell my wife I loved her or hugged my daughter again. I couldn’t call my son in New York. I had just yelled in the house I was leaving on just another a training ride after work. Different day, same thing.

I thought about the things I had chosen to spend my time on. The things I put value in chasing. Lying there, all of that became embarrassingly trivial and I actually laughed at the absurdity of it all (well sort of).

I found humor and irony the stupidity of believing there was always tomorrow to do something different, but something always gets in the way of changing or doing something different tomorrow, doesn’t it?

So tomorrow comes and goes and we keep doing the same shallow, selfish and mindless things. We go through life asleep working to just collect stuff. Toys, money, prestige, whatever.

We get irritated with people who are also lurching about or lashing out around us. They are also asleep. Bouncing from day to day in an endless repeat loop.

Lying there, I realized that I was no different than the people who had irritated me.

There will come a day, your own May 28^th that shows up without notice or warning. And in that spot, all there will be is what you chose to invest your time in.

If you are supremely lucky, you will be like me.

To come back. I was given a chance to learn and grow. I was given more time to make better, wiser choices.

The hard things that followed in the recovery taught me new lessons. I discovered the lie we’ve all been sold. We fear things we think are bad. We avoid what we fear. We also avoid hard things. Why? Because we create mental movies of what will happen if all that bad shit actually happens, so we run the other way in the hopes of avoiding them.

You know what actually occurs if all those bad things you fear come to pass? Nothing. Nothing you have conjured up occurs. The opposite does. You grow. You define yourself. Sure, it may be hard. That is the point. You become a different and better person. You look back on the triviality of what you had been focused on. The shallowness and callowness of it all and laugh. We are not here to wield power over others. To manipulate. To win at all costs. To accumulate.

You may be rolling your eyes. But your May 28^th will also arrive, somehow, someday it will. And when that happens, with profound realization you’ll understand how true these words are.

So, on my May 28^th, I recognize the time I have. I have today. And I have chosen to live all my todays with greater purpose and clarity. Choosing differently. Because when I ask the question, “what should happen because I am here”. I can answer in part by point to these words and the actions that spring from them.

And in answering the follow-on question, “is the juice worth the squeeze?”

Yes it is.

If just one of you recognize that today, on May 28^th, it is time to wake up and choose differently, then yes. The juice is worth the squeeze.