On Monday I attended the funeral of a good friend of mine from medical school, Andy Greer. He died suddenly while working a shift at Christchurch Hospital. He was 40.
I last saw him at another friend’s 40th birthday in September last year where we had a great conversation.
With his life cut short, it made me think.
I spend a lot of my life focused on impact, on achievement, on accomplishment… but it’s the small things, the magic moments, that are the things I cherish.
I’m thinking that this year I might focus a bit more on the small things that make life truly rich.
I guess they’re actually the big things.
In arguments, we often want to be right. But being right is not the same as being wise.
One of the greatest lies we tell ourselves is that we’re falling behind. That someone else is ahead.
As a young man I associated strength with force; louder voices, sharper opinions, firm lines in the sand.
There’s a strange kind of pride we’ve developed in being exhausted. But even lions, the king of the jungle, rest.
I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't have ambition.
We sometimes believe strength means self-sufficiency — that being independent means being isolated.
We often try to outrun the storm, emotionally, physically, spiritually.
We’re entering an age where machines do our thinking before we’ve even had a chance to try.