Life's Only Guarantee (Conquering Death in Life)

Benny Wills

Read time: 5 minutes

There is only one thing certain about life.

Death.

I think about it every day. Not in a morbid way. I’m not obsessed with it.

The inevitability of death keeps me in check. Emotionally and physically.

It keeps me goal-oriented and on track. It reminds me not to take things for granted.

“Every day is the best day in the year. No man has earned anything rightly until he knows that every day is doomsday. Today is a king in disguise.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

This is one of my favorite Emerson quotes. Every day is doomsday for someone. For many. You or I could die tomorrow. (Don’t forget.)

Therefore, every day is a king in disguise. Every day is worth appreciating. Every day is a new beginning, with new possibilities and new opportunities.

But every day is also a fight. An upstream swim against a powerful current of patterned thoughts and habits.

We’re all a little guilty of stifling our own free will. At times anyway. (All of the time for some.) 

One of my goals, long before the reality of death had settled in, was to look back on my life with no regrets.

That’s probably why I harp on “silver-linings” and “lessons in mistakes” so much. I don’t want to leave anything on the table.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that regret often has very little to do with what we've done. It has almost everything to do with what we don't do.

We regret what we never attempted. The moments where doubt trumped boldness.

We often don’t do what we know we should do in exchange for immediate pleasure. Or even just pacification.

Precious hours go by while we busy ourselves doing… nothing. Watching TV, stewing over "problems," fuming about the world, embellishing days of yore, etc.

We avoid doing the things that could move our lives forward. We push them off until tomorrow. Or next week. Or someday.

And then, in a flash, 10 years go by. Then, 10 more. And the pain of regret sinks its fangs into our fragile hearts and souls.

Lost time is lost life.

To pursue greatness is to endure discomfort. To pursue a worthy ideal is to resist immediate gratification and pleasure. But to NOT live in such a way all but guarantees irreversible discomfort and pain down the road.

In essence, we exchange temporary discomfort today for the everlasting discomfort of tomorrow.

And the irony is that long-term discomfort can be avoided. If you would only endure the short-term discomfort now.

“Preparing to do the thing isn't doing the thing.

Scheduling time to do the thing isn't doing the thing.

Making a to-do list for the thing isn't doing the thing.

Telling people you're going to do the thing isn't doing the thing.

Messaging friends who may or may not be doing the thing isn't doing the thing.

Writing a banger tweet about how you're going to do the thing isn't doing the thing.

Hating on yourself for not doing the thing isn't doing the thing. Hating on other people who have done the thing isn't doing the thing. Hating on the obstacles in the way of doing the thing isn't doing the thing.

Fantasizing about all of the adoration you'll receive once you do the thing isn't doing the thing.

Reading about how to do the thing isn't doing the thing. Reading about how other people did the thing isn't doing the thing. Reading this essay isn't doing the thing.

The only thing that is doing the thing is doing the thing."

Strangest Loop (blogger)

Jungle Fever

I remember the exact moment the reality of death slapped me across the face.

I was in Peru, on a retreat in the Amazon rainforest. I was sick. Incapacitated. Violent barfing. Diarrhea. For days. I could barely walk. It was the worst I’ve ever felt, and no, I wasn’t on (or quitting) drugs.

For the first time in my life, I thought I might die. Memories flooded in. Thoughts of things I hadn’t done yet. Places I hadn’t visited. Personal obstacles I'd yet to overcome.

But the thing that was nagging me the most was that I hadn’t told Sonya I loved her yet. We had been dating for about two months, and we both knew we were in love, but neither of us had said it. I felt the urge as she was dropping me off at the airport a few days prior, but for some reason I hesitated.

I couldn’t shake it. I was wrought with regret.

I lost 14 pounds in 3 days. But I survived. Obviously. And obviously, we exchanged “I love you’s” as soon as I got back.

But the reality of death was like a gong ringing in my brain.

That trip to Peru was transformative. Not only did death become real, but my anger toward the world flipped to gratitude.

Up until that point, I had been quite angry. At injustice. Hypocrisy. Deceivers and the ignorant masses.

Something about knocking on death’s door gave me an appreciation for the vantage point I had. I was thankful to be immune to propaganda and societal manipulation. And I felt genuine pity. Not only for the deceived but also for the deceivers.

I was liberated. And grateful. And in love.

I wrote a poem to commemorate and encapsulate my experience. A poem I’ve never performed or shared publicly.

Until now.

It’s called:

I Am Going To Die

I am going to die

I am going to die

What can I do

Before I’m through?

Knowing I’m going to die

 

You are going to die

You are going to die

How much will you grow?

How far will you go?

Knowing you’re going to die

 

They are going to die

They are going to die

How will you treat

The people you meet?

Knowing they’re going to die

 

We are going to die

We are going to die

What can we share

In the time that we spare?

Knowing we’re going to die

 

I am going to live

I am going to live

How high will I fly

From the knots I untie?

Knowing I’m going to live

 

You are going to live

You are going to live

What plans will improve

From the doubt you remove?

Knowing you’re going to live

 

We’re not ready to die

We’re not ready to die

It’s not always easy

It’s not always kind

But we’re not ready to die

 

We are ready to live

We are ready to live

We’re nobody’s fools

We’re sick of the rules

And we are ready to live

 

I am going to die

You are going to die

Let me be clear

There’s nothing to fear

Because we are going to die

 

The Thing

If you’re ready to finally do the thing, I can help.

I have 2 coaching spots available in my program, The Self Reliant Way.

CLICK HERE to book a call with me and see if it’s a good fit.

As always, thank you for your time and attention.

Much love,

Benny