While we still can

A reflection on loss.

An old colleague of mine passed just recently. Heart-breaking. The guy was the picture of health. He was fit, full of energy, and not even 50.

Just two weeks ago, he won third place in a fitness event. Today, he’s gone.

He had no idea he was sick. He pulled up sore after the event, went to the doctor, was rushed to ICU and then gone within hours. No time to prepare. A tragic and shocking reminder that none of us can really ever know how many days we have left.

When I got the news, it was a gut punch. Even though I hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of years, I remember him for his contagious laugh, endless positive energy, exceptional business mind and poised leadership style. He was the kind of guy you’d always be happy to see if you bumped into him in an elevator, or walking down the hallway. He was the representation of strong leadership for so many (including me)…and yet now he was gone.

No matter how much we prepare, it’s not easy to stay grounded when life yanks the floor from under you.

This isn’t a pep talk to remind everyone to cherish each moment. I think it’s just a monologue of some thoughts to hold steady through life’s uncertainty, and doing what we can to live with intention while we still can.

  1. The busyness of life.

How much do we have going on?

We spend most of our days sprinting between tasks, chasing goals, or planning the next thing. We assume there will always be more time. More chances. More tomorrows.

Presence used to be the norm, now it feels like a radical act of resilience to say “no” to the endless opportunities that are pushed on us each day. In fact, it’s also a kind of resilience to have the courage to slow down and actually be in those moments. Even the small, unremarkable ones like the morning sunlight through the kitchen window or the laughter of the kids echoing down the hallway.

These are the quiet anchors that hold us steady. The moments that don’t make the highlight reel, but they ultimately make a life. Let’s not forget to pause.

  1. Cherish connections.

I talk a lot about the power of community and relationships, and loss has a way of sharpening the ones that really matter. Because what matters most is people.

We wait for birthdays, holidays, or some “perfect time” to say the things that really count. But connection doesn’t have to be saved for those big, cinematic moments. It can be built in the small acts of thoughtfulness. I love sending that quick text to let someone know that they popped into my mind. And I reckon they love receiving it as well.

Because that’s what resilience looks like too. It’s so sad that we have to schedule it in, or find time to remember. It means choosing connection even when life is busy, messy, or inconvenient. Because connection is that invisible pillar that keeps us upright when things fall apart.

  1. Don’t wait.

There’s a Latin phrase the Stoics used to live by: memento mori. It translates to “remember that you die”.

Marcus Aurelius embodied it when he wrote: “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.”

I don’t think it’s morbid to think of our end. I actually find it clarifying and energizing. We aren’t dwelling on death, but rather we’re waking up to life. That ordinary day we’re living is something that might be someone else’s last wish. We should take time to savour that sip of coffee or that cool breeze that stirs up on a warm day.

Appreciation pulls us out of autopilot and back into awe, reminding us that every new day we’re given is an invitation to show up fully. That’s the quiet power of memento mori. It’s not fear, but focus.

  1. As always, perspective is everything.

Losing someone we care about cracks us open. We see the world through a different lens as we really get to understand that resilience can also be about welcoming the fragile, beautiful moments we still get.

One tool that seems to resonate the most with readers and my workshop attendees is the 5-5-5 rule. Will this matter in 5 mins, 5 days or even 5 years? Answering those questions will show how much time and energy we waste on anger and irritation. It’s simply not worth it to hang onto that sh*t. This is the perspective shift we need to remind us what really matters.

My mate didn’t know his time would be so short. But I know he lived with heart, with love, and with kindness. And maybe that’s the real goal….not to live forever, but to live well, while we still can. To leave this place just a little bit better than when we found it.

So today, I might take the longer way home to slow down a second. I’ll hug the kids a bit tighter. I’ll take a second to think of what really matters and spend more energy on that.

RIP Daz, you legend!

Until next time friends, stay resilient.

Carré @ Resilient Minds

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