A re-post and reminder.
September 11 is only a couple of days away. For those living in America (and beyond), it is a sacred day. As well it should be.
I remember much about that day 10 years ago. It still shapes much of my thinking as a context for the life I lead now. The events left me exposed. In the sense that I was trying to find my way with the wrong compass.
I heard the stories of mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters who would never come home again. I felt sad. But there I was, taking for granted so much in my life. I was a little lost and wandering what my role (the real one) was to play. It took some years after 9/11 to get to the following place:
I am no longer in the business of taking things for granted.
At some point events converged and I began to see my life as a whole and not just parts. And again, it took me time to understand it and live it. Twists in the road made for much sickness. It was a process that I worked (still do) and committed to. I didn’t want to be that person who woke one day to find he’d never really lived.
An odd thing occurred last week at a talk I attended. I was asked what my greatest fear was. The answer:
Not doing meaningful work, paid or otherwise.
For me it was a gut check on what I believe, what I value and whether I was willing to see my mission through until the end. I know this post won’t bring anyone back or heal a broken heart, but it’s worth noting I am no longer in the business of taking things for granted. Maybe that’s the best tribute I can give.