Here is a real snippet from a conversation I had with my new friend Marjorie the other day (and although I am prone to embellishment, this is kind of a word-for-word situation):

“As my car was spinning out of control, I said to myself, today is a good day to die.”

(*Insert record scratch sound*)

She had my attention. And I think I might have your attention now, too?

In the inexplicable way that time slows down in life-jolting moments, she described the profound sense of peace that came over her before she became unconscious.

Things were in a good place with her son and her cousin’s kids, she said. She recalled how they had just had a nice time together on vacation, which really mattered to her. She also remembers thinking, “I’ve been a good person.”

Imagine for a minute that your life was hanging by a thread. Like, right now. To what extent could you say today is a good day to die?

• Would you feel like your important relationships were in a good place? If not, what’s a relationship you might need to pay attention to today? Anyone you need to text? Visit? Hug? Arrange a conjugal visit?
• Would you feel okay about the way you participated in life—like you “paid for the ticket and got on the ride,” so to speak? If not, what’s a way you can infuse some fun? Is there a cool experience you want to schedule, just to prove to yourself that you do, in fact, live with fervor?
• Would you feel like you gave your goals a go? That you tried to reach them, even if some of them ended up being spectacular failures? If you have that sinking feeling, today’s the day to take one step forward towards your dream, maybe? Register the LLC? Apply for the program? Do the “day 1 walk/jog” of your marathon training?
• Would you feel good about the way you treated your body? If not, you can always make a healthy decision today… like taking 7 deep breaths… or eating a kiwi… or walking around the block… or stopping at one glass of Riesling.
• Would you feel like you were “a good person”? If not, it’s alright. We’re all pretty awful. But we can be less awful! Is today the day you put your name on the volunteer list? Do one of those random acts of kindness? Write a thoughtful note and pop it in the mail? Donate a bunch-or-a-bit of dough to a cause you care about? Be a better listener? It’s never too late to be less lousy.
• I’ve written before about your life flashing before your eyes, remember? Something along the lines of, would you like the “life flashback” movie that would play in front of your eyes? What would you rate it on Rotten Tomatoes? And would there be popcorn?

The good news is that 99.77% of us won’t die today (let’s all knock on wood in unison), so we won’t be tested with the absurd notion of whether we’d go with contentment or resignation. But it’s a useful thought experiment is it not? If we’d rest in peace, so to speak, we get to feel good about our life choices and darned well keep living that way. If we’d go kicking and screaming “waiiiiit,” well, we get to make a few edits with the way we’re doing this life. Choices: aren’t they great when they are made vivid?

Back to the car accident.

Marjorie experienced a spinal cord injury that paralyzed her from her arms down. (She writes and speaks on this moving story; I’m sharing a mere iota of it here.) Here’s a snippet from a LinkedIn post she recently penned:

“Death is an integral part of the human experience. Yet we often deny its existence, thinking that it will come only when we are really old and grey. I can tell you that Death, illness, disability can happen to anyone, at any moment as it often does not announce itself.  For me, seeing death up close has shaken my perspective on Life. Being aware of its presence forced me to re-evaluate my priorities and assess the values I wanted to live by.”

So.

Here we are.

We are outstandingly alive.

Whether we’re able-bodied, in a wheelchair, in labor, in the throes of depression, in rehab… if we’re reading this, regardless of our life circumstance, it means we have a chance to do this life justice.

In my book, You Only Die Once: How to Make It to the End with No Regrets, I underscore, bold, and italicize (i.e., I AGGRESSIVELY EMPHASIZE) this notion that life is too short to get to the end with a bunch of Coulda Shoulda Woulda’s.

Let’s be ready, figuratively, if the Reaper came knocking today. I’d like to make a few tweaks before he escorts me to the crematorium. What about you? Will you start tweaking today, too? Let’s kill this life before it kills us.