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I’ve never read anything written by Leo Tolstoy, the legendary Russian author, mostly because I’ve never felt smart enough to sit down with any of his writings. I stick to basketball boxscores and previews of the NFL draft.
But I was listening to a podcast recently where a Tolstoy fan began laying out his views on death, and those thoughts really hit me hard. The podcast host talked about how Tolstoy wrote that people who fear death aren’t actually scared of dying—they’re scared of the life that they led.
When I sat with that, I found it mind-blowing. I used to be terrified of death. What happens when we die? Will my kids be ok? Will it hurt? What all will I miss out on?
Fear of dying is normal, and it’s probably the oldest fear that humans—or any animal, really—have ever had. In many ways, we’re wired to fight to survive and procreate, which means we’re always going to be hardwired to have a fear of death. I get that, and I still have it on some level.
But it’s different now. When I found out I had Stage 4 cancer a year ago, I went through the entire thought process of the possibility that I wouldn’t live. And to my surprise, I was fine with it. Did I want to die? Absolutely not. I wanted to fight like hell, and I did fight like hell, so as of today, I am cancer free.
But I wasn’t terrified. I didn’t live my life crippled by that fear. In fact, I went the other way. When death was more on the table than ever before, it made me want to be grateful for every day. I credit most of that to sobriety, which has a constant emphasis on staying present. I used to use drugs and alcohol to escape the past, the present and the future.
I also think a significant portion of my fear of dying from before was the idea that deep down, I was scared that I hadn’t done enough with my life. That I would be leaving the world too soon.
I don’t feel that way any more. I have lots and lots and lots of desire to do lots and lots and lots more things in my time on Earth. But I now feel content with how I lived my life and what I have accomplished. I do get bothered by the idea that if I got hit by a bus tomorrow, or cancer took me out a year from now, I would miss out on some heartbreaking parts of my kids’ lives. That’s why I fought so hard.
But professionally, I feel great about what I’ve done. Personally, I am proud of the growth I’ve made, the people I’ve helped along the way and my 25-plus year relationship with my wife. It’s a big reason why I lay my head down most nights without any anxiety about what I need to still accomplish in my life.
Do I want to accomplish more? Absolutely. I feel as driven as I ever have. But my acceptance of myself and the world is at an all-time high, so my fear of death no longer haunts me. I feel exactly how Tolstoy described. Will I be diving headfirst in more of Tolstoy’s writings? Probably… but not until the NFL draft is over.
This newsletter is a place of joy and laughter about the deadly serious business of sobriety. So, as I will often do, let me close with a joke:
An usher in a posh movie theater noticed a drunk sprawled across three seats. “Sorry, sir,” the usher said, “but you’re only allowed one seat.”
The man groaned but didn’t budge.
The usher became impatient. “Sir, if you don’t get up from there, I’m going to have to call the manager.”
Again, the drunk only moaned, which infuriated the usher, who turned and marched back up the aisle in search of the manager.
In a few moments, both the usher and the manager returned and stood over the man. “All right, buddy,” the manager said, “what’s your name?”
“Sam,” the drunk moaned.
“Where did you come from, Sam?”
With pain in his voice, Sam slurred, “The balcony.”
(Credit: AA Grapevine, June 2000, Anonymous)
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