Translator: Yifei Zhang Reviewer: Denise RQ
"Live each day as if it is your last."
How many of you have heard that expression before?
OK.
How many of you actually do that each day?
I got a half a wave, OK.
Most of you, no.
So I'm not alone.
Personally, I think this is a bad idea.
I'm going to talk a bit about the expression,
I'm going to give you some reasons why I think it's a bad idea,
and I am going to argue for another alternative.
So, live each day like it's your last.
I did some research, and what it appears though is
this is just one of those expressions that's been around forever.
I found where several people apparently have said it throughout history
- even as far back as the Roman Empire -
but I couldn't find its origin solidly link to any one person in particular.
Like most of you, I've been hearing it most of my life,
and most recently, while watching Steve Jobs
giving his now famous commencement speech at Stanford University in 2005 on YouTube.
In that speech, he specifically said that by that time,
he had made a 33-year habit
out of looking in the mirror each morning and asking himself,
"If today were the last day of my life,
would I want to do what I'm about to do today?"
And if the answer was no for too many days in a row
then he knew he had to change something.
I completely get where he was going with this;
live life to the fullest,
don't settle for second best or waste time,
shake things up by using discomfort as a change motivator.
I get it.
All fine and good, and great in theory,
but here's what happened when I tried it.
Having fully bought in to Steve's suggestion,
I woke up the morning after watching the video,
rubbed the sleep from my eyes,
I leaned in for a closer look at my reflection in the mirror,
and I said exactly the same words he did.
Almost immediately, however, I got depressed.
I hadn't been depressed the night before;
in fact, I'd been relatively content at bedtime,
but my last day, ever?
Am I really going to go into work, even if I love it?
No.
Am I going to subject myself to rush-hour traffic?
I don't think so.
Am I going to run menial errands or speak to people who get on my nerves?
Highly unlikely.
And what about that well-women's appointment with my OBGYN?
(Laughter)
Not going to go there.
Where I am going to go if it's my last day is Paris.
And I'm going to max out all my credit cards
to take all the people that I love with me.
I'm going to smoke French cigarettes, even though I quit years ago.
I'm going to eat and drink whatever I want,
and flirt with a lot of French men.
I'm also going to wear the most absurd outfit that I can think of
that makes me feel whimsical and eccentric
instead of conservative and socially acceptable.
And I'm probably not going to floss.
(Laughter)
If it were literally my last day on the planet,
if I lived each day like it was,
then it probably soon would be.
So I watched in the mirror that first morning
as my smile turned into a frown,
and the rest of the day was essentially shot
as was the day after that, and the day after that
because like any good experiment, you have to try it more than once.
There are a few things about living each day like it's your last
that don't make sense to me.
First, there's the sense of panic that can ensue
when faced with an imminent expiration day whether real or hypothetical.
Urgency causes stress,
and I'm sure that's not the first time you've heard that either.
I know that if I say, "I have got to," versus, "I really want you,"
my entire physiology changes.
Also, in our last day scenarios - again, mine being Paris -
are entirely based on us being physically capable
of pulling off all of the things on our list for a last day,
meaning, in order for us to actually die,
there would have to be some kind of freak accident or natural disaster
to take us out before midnight.
Personally, I'd rather have one of those gorgeous Parisians
take me out for dinner before midnight, but I digress.
Let's talk reality.
I'm a writer, but I'm also a nurse,
and I have been a nurse for 25 years.
My career has spanned from oncology to heart transplantation,
and most areas in between.
Last days aren't pretty.
I've seen a lot of people's last days.
They can be peaceful at times; sometimes, they are not.
But not one person that I've taken care of
has been physically capable of accomplishing any huge thing
on the day of their last breath.
Not one.
You're probably thinking,
"She's being a little literal right now and maybe a bit dramatic."
And maybe I am.
But I have a bit of a case study to share with you
that supports the findings of my own mirror experiment.
Nine years ago, one of my best friends in the world, Janessa [Aulont]
died of stage 4 breast cancer.
By the time she'd become symptomatic enough
to be diagnosed or to seek medical attention,
it'd metastasized to her lungs, liver, and bone.
That diagnosis came in 2003, and she was given six months to live.
That's just 180 days.
Here was a vibrant, positive, energetic woman in her early 50s.
A vegetarian,
she worked out five days a week.
she never smoked, and she rarely drank.
That diagnosis was her mirror,
and within days appearing the news,
she became intensely depressed.
She disappeared into her home, and she only came out for appointments.
She didn't want to speak to anyone, and she rarely returned phone calls.
She also gave away most of her cherished possessions,
including her much loved, cherry-red Miata convertible.
She had been writing a children's book, but she didn't want to finish it,
she didn't want to check anything off her bucket list,
she had absolutely no interest.
Until day 181.
To hear her tell the story,
she woke up on that morning and said,
"Uh... Wait a minute, I'm still here."
(Laughter)
She then marked day 181 as her new birthday,
and she would refer to those horrible six months
from that point forward, as the year of her death.
Her whole attitude changed.
She started writing again.
She got a tattoo because she'd always secretly wanted one
(Laughter)
and she asked for her car back.
(Laughter)
Yes she did.
And she would drive around in that convertible
with her little bold head tucked safely under a wide-brimmed hat.
Her beautiful personality came back tenfold
and she lived for another three years from that new birthday on.
Day 181 became Janessa's first day.
Everything she touched from that point forward,
she appreciated it.
And seeing the world through her eyes really was
kind of like seeing it through the eyes of a child.
She embraced every hour of every day, with a renewed spirit,
right up until the eventual end.
Yes, I do think that knowing we are going to die someday
can be a motivator for some,
including Steve Jobs who was in remission at the time of his commencement speech.
But how realistic in approach is that
for the average person who's perfectly healthy?
I think that most of us think about our last days on occasion,
but we then put them in the back of our minds
and go about our business.
Still, some of us worry about that time constraint,
and rack our brains on how to leave our mark on the world
given our now myriad of choices,
to the point of becoming completely incapacitated.
Do you know that on my estimation,
approximately 15% of the adults I looked after while working on oncology
said that getting cancer was one of the greatest gifts
they'd ever been given?
Yes, even for the percentage of those who were terminal.
Because of clarity, and Janessa said exactly the same thing.
Once she got through the darkness,
she was able to discover what was truly important to her,
and she moved those items to the top of her list.
And her one through five gave her joy regardless of outcome.
Unpublished, she said to me once,
"You know, I always wanted to be a writer, but guess what?
I've been one all along."
So what's the alternative to living each day as though it's your last?
Live each day as though it's your first.
If we live each day full of wonder and appreciation
while discovering a genuine sense of joy,
I believe that motivation for our truest passion
would be more likely to present itself.
And Janessa started writing again after day 181
because there were more days on the horizon
not because there weren't.
What a gift future days are!
So I would argue that we can deal with day-to-day routine and responsibility
while pursuing our passion.
It doesn't have to be all or nothing.
I now look in the mirror each morning and I ask myself,
"If today were the first day of my life, and I have more days ahead,
would I want to do what I'm about to do today?"
Yes; I do want to go in to work
so that I can fund my joy projects, and eat.
(Laughter)
Yes, I do want to get into traffic
because it can take me where I want to go
while giving me time to listen to some great books
and admire the trees along the roadway.
Have you seen them? They're actually there.
And they are beautiful.
Yes, I do want to feel the accomplishment of completed tasks
and maybe even give a kind word and a smile to people who annoy me.
I definitely want to keep that OBGYN appointment
because I want to know that I'm doing everything in my power
to stave off that last day as long as possible.
Janessa knew that she had a lump in her left breast,
but she chose to ignore it.
Because she'd been diagnosed with fibroids so many times,
she was convinced it was just more of the same.
Please do not let this happen to you.
If living each day as though it's your last works for you,
that's great.
But if it doesn't,
I challenge you to get up tomorrow morning
look in the mirror, rub the sleep from your eyes,
and try living each day as though it's your first,
and you've been gifted a future.
Be that a day, a month, a year, or 40 years;
your mirror awaits.
(Applause)