Pat.jpg

Patrick Fellows is a 5 time Ironman, TEDx giving, 32 miles swimming, endurance coaching, healthy cooking, entrepreneur and musician.  Born in Dearborn, MI, raised in Mississippi and a Louisianian for 30 years, 

24 HRS

24 HRS

I have a folder of these starts and stops. From the mornings mostly. When I open a page and beg myself to spit out greatness. Hell, some days "okay-ness" is acceptable. I get firty, one hundred, sometimes even a couple hundred words in and then falter, stutter, and stop. "This isn't worth pressing forward." I'll think. I close the app, pet the dog, pour more coffee, surf more internets. Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow.

The good news is there is always tomorrow. For most of us at least, but not forever tomorrows. They live in a certain amount, an arbitrary amount. Today may be it. Best get to doing or at the least to soaking in this last day.

This leads me to a macabre thought.

What if today is my last tomorrow?

What if I absolutely knew that tonight I'd go to sleep and pass on into whatever nothingness is after. What would I actually do with today?

I think the first question I'd wonder about would be, Can I do anything to stop this? What if I stay up all night, do I just drop at midnight? 3 a.m.?  After waiting precious minutes I'd move on I think. I think. 2 mins wasted.

Would I stop and put together a plan and start executing a short bucket list to try and achieve at breakneck speed?  It would seem like I'd want to spend as much of the time with those that I love, but you'd not want it to be awkward, no time to waste explaining away anything or apologizing for the past. Could you impart a lesson on your kids?  Or maybe you do want to make amends. I don't know.

How much of your time would be spent on last minute "getting your affairs in order".  A scribbled will, a note for the world of your last minute proclamations.

Would you tell anyone?

Would you choose to go it alone?

//

This exercise I have stumbled upon this morning is eye opening.  Or something like that. Maybe it's just disturbing. A little too much to dive into on this balmy August morning.

If you're rolling through the possibilities with me, you're likely also feeling the anxiety I'm feeling.

It should, though, be centering. Does it make you immediately think of the amount of time you work?  To what end/yield. Money? Cool. Can you spend it all on your last day?  I didn't think so.

All the hours wasted on what others will think of you. All the important things you had to purchase.

It's similar to the "what would happen if I won the lottery?" question. Would you continue to  work your same job or a variation thereof?

One day. Shit, not even one day. What if you accidentally slept an hour or so later and now only had 20 hours. How would you spend them.

If I am approaching this correctly, and I think I am, it's eye opening to the frivolous waste of life we all engage in every day. I've spoken before about this question before but it's always framed as "what would you do differently if today MIGHT be your last" as opposed to "there is no tomorrow". Tonight it's all over.

Something about this stark framing really makes me consider differently.

So what would you do, you have 24 hours.

Starting.

Now.

Leave a comment. I think it will be intriguing.

#hugsandhi5s

IT’S. A. TRAP.

IT’S. A. TRAP.

42 DAYS

42 DAYS