A Letter To This Fucked Up Life Of Ours
I’ll be brief because I don’t want to keep you away from your all important, full time job of confusing the living shit out of everyone.
I’m watching Saving Private Ryan. I saw it when it first came out in 1998 and it left me shell shocked. The next time I caught it was years later, late night in a hotel room in Atlanta. I was there for some corporate training nonsense because weeks before, I talked my way into some ridiculous technical recruiting gig. Like everyone else, I had bills to pay.
I don’t remember crying in the movie theater but all alone in this dark hotel room, I wept from the core of my being. I covered my eyes with my hands and tears flowed down my fingers while Giovanni Rivisi’s character lay dying from bullet wounds in that grassy field. Right before you, Life, left him, he panted, “Mommy. Mommy. Mommy.”
I literally couldn’t handle it. I needed to talk to someone and since you were the only one around, I picked up the pen and paper next to the phone on the nightstand.
I wrote furiously about seizing the day and making the most of every moment. And now it’s years and years later and I’ve definitely been living a little more, but not to the level where it really counts. And the clock continues to tick.
The thing is, as you know, you keep getting in the way.
Which leads me to ask, what do you want from me man?
I’m not going to wait around for you to write back because I already know the answer. You don’t want a goddamn thing from me. But I can tell by the way things unfold, you strongly suggest that I keep following my gut. And keep being as kind as I can.
Which I will. I promise.
I just wish you could make things a little easier for all of us.
With love and gratitude,
“In, Gabe Berman shares his recipe for living a more joyful,worthwhile, and abundant life in every way. A witty, entertaining, and insightful read.” ~Deepak Chopra