The power of near-death experiences
"Enjoy every sandwich"
Hi friends,
They say that your whole life flashes before your eyes when you think you're going to die, or when you think someone you love is about to die right in front of you, and I’m here to tell you that it’s true.
Two years ago, on the morning of June 30, 2020, I thought my partner, Ally, was going to die. She was sprawled on the kitchen floor, her mouth making vibration noises — it was a seizure.
Seconds earlier, she had asked for a pillow on which to rest her head. When I came back with one, she was sprawled on the floor, unresponsive. I thought sweet Ally had died, and my heart began to race. Two years later, reliving the memory brings tears to my eyes and aches to my heart.
During her seizure, I ran to the home office to get her dad, Jim. He rushed over to attend to her while I dialed 911. Then I ran across the street for help from their neighbor, a former police officer. In those seconds, I remember a numbness that permeated my body. I was in too much of a hurry to cry. In that instance, what I felt was pain and disbelief. It was an oh no moment. No more warm hugs together? No more coffee dates, walks in the park, and car-ride conversation? Maybe it was premature to jump to fear the worst, but that’s sometimes what the human mind does.
When I returned to the kitchen, Ally had awoken, fully conscious, as if nothing had happened. We could exhale. I felt gratitude — relief, to a great degree — for the gift of life, the gift of a heartbeat, the gift of the breath. In an instant, she could have been gone. (Later that day at the hospital, she was diagnosed with Lyme carditis, a rare infection that occurs when Lyme bacteria enters your heart tissue. She was released from the ICU within a few days.)
During those ICU days, I thought about how, if that had been her final day on Earth, I would have missed her dearly. I thought of all the times I should have listened to her more closely, loved her more, looked out for her more, and showed more kindness to her. In the end, we are all atoms and molecules with souls. It is all so fragile, yet we can easily fall into auto-pilot tendencies. For weeks afterward, I had flashbacks to the incident and the haunting scene of her vibrating on the floor.
Ally’s near-death also imbued me with a sense of urgency, an awareness of time’s frailty. I later thought: Why push this off? We embarked on a three-month cross-country van trip to see national parks, big cities, small towns, and friends and family. We scheduled a few other trips and concerts. We started a monthly tradition, “Staying Alive Gifts,” where we each gift each other one thoughtful item as an appreciation for simply being there, alive. Then I decided to limit mindless social media scrolling and use that time to read more books. There’s no point in postponing enjoyable experiences with the people we love, or wasting away our most precious asset, our time.
Over the course of my life, I’ve had a few close calls, incidents that, had they taken place a second or a minute later, might have changed my life — or ended it. Once, as a passenger in the backseat, our car was nearly struck by another car moving at a high speed. Another time, walking in downtown Syracuse, a man speeding through an intersection almost ran me over. It raised my heart rate by many multiples, and I lived the rest of the day grateful to be alive.
But until Ally’s seizure, I had never had a classic near-death experience, the one that includes an out-of-body moment. It relates to a few thoughts below:
Singer-songwriter Warren Zevon issued excellent advice, while he was dying of lung cancer: “You put more value on every minute...You know I always kinda thought I did that. I really always enjoyed myself. But it’s more valuable now. You’re reminded to enjoy every sandwich and every minute.”
Similarly, a man I met last summer on a trip with my dad to Gettysburg told me: “Pay attention.”
And Jim, my partner Ally’s dad, recently spoke at a memorial service, giving a touching eulogy about his brother. He recalled how, at his wedding, his late brother (and best man) gave a speech that mentioned an Allen Saunders quote: “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.”
The larger points to all of this holds true: savor the good things in life while you can. Give flowers to a loved one while you still can. Grab a drink with an old friend while you still can. Enjoy that meal, that concert, or that weekend getaway with someone you love — while you still can.
Take it from me to live for today, not in some distant future or retirement, greater wealth, or a bigger home. As I’ve learned from recent tragedies and scares — a neighbor dropping dead while walking his dog one evening after work, a family-friend hanging herself on a Sunday afternoon, a family member dying of a rare form of brain cancer, and Ally’s seizure — there is no guarantee that we’ll get as much time as we would like.
Said Jimmy Valvano, when dying of bone cancer: “I urge all of you, all of you, to enjoy your life, the precious moments you have.”
Other beautiful thoughts I enjoyed this week:
Poet Danielle Doby: “When you create a difference in someone’s life, you not only impact their life, you impact everyone influenced by them throughout their entire lifetime. No act is too small. One by one, this is how to make an ocean rise.”
Brad Pitt has said: “I think the simple math is, some projects work and some don't. There's no reason to belabor either one. Just get on to the next.” The same is true for life: Some days, some projects, and some seasons work well. Others don’t…either way, let’s move onto the next.
Sam Altman: “Focus is a force multiplier. Almost everyone I’ve ever met would be well-served by spending more time thinking about what to focus on. It is much more important to work on the right thing than it is to work many hours. Most people waste most of their time on stuff that doesn’t matter.” To that end, Jon Gordon recently posted: “We waste so much time and energy on things that don’t matter. In the end, all that matters are people, love, and relationships.”
“Inside everyone there’s a universe, a gigantic cosmos brimming with stars.”
A new meditation I tried last weekend was an eyeball meditation. The essence is that for those of us fortunate enough to have eyesight, our eyes work hard for us, giving us the gift of sight, to witness the beauty of life unfold around us. The meditation, for me, works well by closing my eyes for a few moments, gently massaging my eyelids, and then meditating or thinking about their power and beauty.
Photo of the week: Sunset + fog on a summer evening in New Jersey
Parting question: Will the things you are worried about or scared of right now matter in five years?
Be joyful and celebrate your gifts,
Matthew