Waking Up to Your Chance at Life
I want to talk to you about a few reasons to live, and to love being alive.
But first I want to talk about death, because death helps us appreciate life. It puts things in perspective.
The first time this was really clear to me was when I was 17 years old and almost died.
I want you to picture me up on a wall of ice. From here, I saw the end of my life, and I would never see my life the same way again.
So, how did I get there?
I was young, 17 years old, driving up in the mountains, and off the side of the road I spot a wall of ice falling hundreds of feet beneath me.
I decide: I want to go up to the ice and touch it—as an adventure.
So I find a way down and I touch it. And I think, “Cool.” But then I look across the ice and see some rocks on the other side of the ice, maybe 20 yards, and I think crossing the ice would be a real adventure.
I test the ice by kicking my shoe into it to see what it’s like. I’m wearing sandals—open-toed leather sandals. And a t-shirt and jeans. So with my sturdy climbing equipment, I kick into the ice and find that I can make these little two-inch cuts in the ice to “stand on.”
There’s no way this can fail, right? What could possibly go wrong? After all, I’m 17. I’m immortal. And nothing bad can ever happen to me. (Did I mention I was 17?)
So I start out, clinging to the wall as I make my way across. Because of my tunnel-vision for adventure, I’m not paying attention to the hundreds of feet of empty space that drop beneath me. If I slip and fall, it’s instant death.
Half way across, I realize I can’t go any further. So, I think, “Alright—I’ll just go back.” So I look for my previous footholds. But I can’t see any. They’re hidden around a bend in the ice.
It’s only then that I see the position I’ve put myself in. Perched in the middle of this ice wall hundreds of feet above the ground, I suddenly realize I’m going to die.
I try to stand very still. My arms are outstretched in both directions and I’m wishing myself into the ice. My biggest fear is tipping back into oblivion. I lose track of what “level” is because my sense of orientation is playing tricks on me. My face is planted against the white expanse of ice, and that’s all I can see.
I try to stay completely still. The ice was melting, my fingers were freezing, and my feet were cramping. I knew it was only a matter of time. I knew that gravity would soon have its way with me.
Terrifying thoughts swirled in my head. I started shaking. There was fear, nausea, adrenaline. I imagined the next day’s headlines: “Boy dies in the mountains, alone.” I was alone. There was no one to witness my final moments.
This is what it felt like.
Obviously it wasn’t this, because I’m not Spiderman. But this is exactly what it felt like.
I was sure I was going to die, and there was no way out.
I knew I should do something, but I couldn’t make myself move. It felt like even the slightest quiver would unmoor me.
I just wanted a few more moments of consciousness. And that’s when I felt for the first time the true preciousness of each second alive.
And that’s what I really want to talk about today: The preciousness of each second we have alive, and why it’s so precious.
So, I’m going to leave myself up on that ice wall for a little bit. But now, when we’re in the right frame of mind—when we can really feel the preciousness of each second alive—I want to introduce a few explicit reasons to love our chance at life.
The first reason involves the precious rarity of life; the second involves the bounty and beauty of life; and the third is about the possibilities of life.
Point 1: The Rarity and Preciousness of Life
First of all: Congratulations. If you’re here, you’re alive—which means you’ve already won. You’ve already won the golden ticket to the greatest experience on earth: human life.
Unlike all the stardust and clumps of rock in the universe, you get to live. And you not only get to live—you get to live as a human being, which means, you get to appreciate life and have a profound experience of your existence. Which is quite a gift.
As a human being, you’re self-aware, so you don’t just experience your experiences; you also get to appreciate your experiences. As a human being, you get to savor your taste of life.
Trillions of atoms in the universe never get the chance to be conscious or to appreciate anything—but you do. Rocks never get to listen to thunderstorms, or taste chocolate, or write a book or pet a dog. But you do, and I do—and we too often forget this privilege. We take it for granted.
But we shouldn’t.
At least occasionally, we should walk around in a daze of wonder, unable to believe that we’ve woken up in such a beautiful universe. At least occasionally, we should try to remember how lucky we are to be here at all.
Imagine the journey it took for you to be here. Think of the odds of your existence. Not only did Earth have to form and life have to evolve, but your parents had to meet. Every ancestor of yours had to survive countless trials—plus they had to, one way or another, “get together.” It’s almost unimaginable. And yet, here you are. The sheer unlikelihood of your existence is staggering.
If the entire history of Earth were compressed into 24 hours, humans would only appear in the last few seconds before midnight. And here you are, alive in those few seconds—alive, aware, and able to appreciate the universe around you.
Yes, I know this is a tautology (because you could only be alive when human life is possible) but bear with me. Try to see the perspective. Try to feel how you’ve already won. Take a break from your normal expectations and see that you’ve already achieved the greatest chance you could ever hope for: the chance at human life itself.
The statement “I am” should be a statement of wonder for you. Today is another miracle simply because you’re alive. Want to feel lucky? Take a breath. You’ve already received the greatest gift there is—and you’re still enjoying it right now.
Point 2: The Bounty and Beauty of Life
Let’s move from the precious rarity of life to my second reason for loving life: the bounty and beauty that exist in life and the world.
Obviously, not all of the world and not all of life. There is a lot of bad out there. There is a lot of ugliness and pain.
But that gets plenty of attention.
I want to emphasize here that there is also good.
Indeed, life offers a potential smorgasbord of values to explore and experience.
Have you seen a sunset in Africa? Have you watched the Northern Lights? Have you experienced a deep and secure love? Or gone scuba diving? Or raised a family? Or written a book, or started a business?
All of that is out there, and so much more. There is a cornucopia of beauty and value to explore and create in life.
There are simple pleasures: the taste of chocolate, the warmth of a Jacuzzi, the laughter of friends.
And there’s dogs! Dogs are bounty enough to prove that life is worth living. Some say cats. I don’t really understand that. But I’m a little biased. I love dogs. 🙂
Plus there’s the potential bounty we have in creating things. Unlike most animals, we humans get to produce, create, and take pride in adding beauty and value to the world, whether it’s a song, an invention, a book, or a business.
The bounty of life also includes moments I call “Glorious Life Experiences,” when the world feels luminous, magical, and deeply worth living.
- Standing in the still center of a hurricane.
- Feeling the golden light of sunset.
- Savoring the satisfaction of a job well done.
These special moments, these Glorious Life Experiences, remind us that life is not just worth living—it’s worth celebrating.
Point 3: The Possibilities of Life
We’ve talked about the rarity of human life and the bounty of human life. I want to turn finally to the possibilities that life offers.
Unlike death, life is pregnant with possibilities. Tyrion Lannister says it best.
We humans get a lot of excitement for living from our awareness of possibilities.
A primary purpose in our gift of life lies in our opening of that gift—in our unwrapping of the possibilities in ourselves and in reality.
For humans, exploration of possibilities is a joy in itself—it is key to feeling truly alive.
Exploring new realities makes life perennially fascinating for us, whether we’re playing peek-a-boo as an infant, trying to discover new equations in physics, or falling in love. We pursue life for the enchantment of witnessing an unfamiliar, unexplored possibility unfold before our eyes.
Even as a baby, we reach out to the world—to touch, discover, taste and experience more of what is out there.
Life is for realizing the possibilities that most excite you. It’s what keeps your soul alive.
A full life is a life of explored possibilities.
As Thoreau reminds us: Don’t come to the end of life and discover you haven’t lived. “Suck all the marrow out of life.” Don’t sleepwalk through life. Take risks and, at times, even live dangerously.
Life is meant to be an adventure. Life is meant for seeing what might happen and what’s possible in this one chance to live.
Conclusion
So those are my three reasons for living and for loving life while you have it.
Life’s rarity and preciousness, life’s bounty and beauty, and life’s possibilities.
That’s it.
But…
I do want to go back to the ice wall where I left myself clinging for life.
It was my last chance to live, to breathe, to exist—to experience at all.
After what felt like an eternity facing mortality, I felt like I had nothing to lose, so I blindly stretched my foot out searching for a foothold. And, after what seemed like forever, I felt a little something—a little bump in the ice. And with no other choice, I shifted my weight onto it.
And, of course, it held. Slowly, painstakingly, I climbed my way back to safety.
When I reached solid ground, I remember falling to my knees and running my hands through the dirt, overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude. I had been given a second chance at life. And this time, I could really appreciate it for the chance that it was.
That moment has stayed with me for nearly 40 years. When I think of myself on that ice wall, I can still feel my hands tingle and sweat. I can feel it right now. My hands are tingling and sweating as I write this sentence. The experience left quite an impression on me.
And I’m glad. It reminds me to not take my precious seconds alive for granted. It’s why I started Life Savor. And it’s why I’m here today, urging you to awaken to the value of your own life.
This one chance you have—to breathe, to feel, to care, to do—is fleeting. Don’t let it slip through your fingers unlived or unloved.
Celebrate your existence—while you can.
Dance in the rain. Love deeply. Live fully. Don’t take it for granted.
Because life—despite its hardships, despite its pain—is the best thing we will ever have.
To learn more about Life Savor’s philosophy,
read Life Savor: Treasuring Our Gift of Life by Erik Victor Reed.
