What Near-Death Failed to Teach Me.I came so close to dying that day. Cycling to the Rocky Mountain office, 30kph, and suddenly I was airborne. Time compressed in those milliseconds. What hit me? I’ve got a bike show next week! Then a strange thought: This is an amazing airshow! Everything went black. I lay there, knowing nothing. Minutes later, my rattled brain started to wake. Confused, I looked up into the pale-blue morning sky, and a startled face, peering down. The big guy radiated fear, “Damn, how did I miss you?” His voice cracking with emotion, “I’m driving that rig, and I barely saw you land in front of my grill.” Still lying awkwardly on the road, I winced from pain as I turned my head to see his tractor-trailer just a few metres away. “I…I veered, I braked. But I don't know how I missed you,” he said. I ran my bloodied arm over my eyes, staring blankly at the driver. During the ragged ride in the ambulance, the pain was excruciating. I could tell it was something more than road rash. In Emerg, while collecting my statement, the police officer said “You’re lucky, you’re still with us.” Trying to grasp it all I wondered why she would say that. “She’s likely seen much worse,” I thought. And then I said, “Huh. The truck driver said that too.” She continued, “Your choice of landing in the front of the semi wasn’t ideal if you planned on living today.” “Ha ha!” I forced a laugh. Lying in Emerg, high on pain killers, I had hours of time to ponder. “Was I lucky? Fated? Supernaturally rescued? Shouldn’t an accident like that force a kind of reckoning?” It didn’t. This was in 1992, and after six weeks of convalescing from a broken femur, I was back to new bike designs, race team, customers, and the rest. I limped on, a new plate screwed on my bone. No thoughts of a change in any of my activities. I was continuing as normal, measuring my self-worth by sales growth, money, and world recognition. Sure, there were a few voices from my family questioning my intensity, and business passion. I couldn’t hear the logic of these voices: “You were given this unexpected gift of life. Why don’t you stop and think! Take a look around and see if you still want to go on as hard!” I thought survival itself was proof enough that I was on the right path. Why would I want to examine bigger questions? But years later, I knew I had confused my achievement with my identity. And this near-death experience simply planted a question that took a decade to answer. Have you ever looked back and realized you were living with an identity you never examined? I would love to connect with you on LinkedIn and Facebook See you next week, Grayson Did someone forward you this email? Get weekly reflections straight to your inbox by subscribing to The Compassionate Competitor. Want to share this issue via text, social media, or email? Just copy and paste this link: [ARCHIVE URL GOES HERE] |
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