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Urgency

I recently read something about urgency that inspired me to write you this letter. When I was a child, the concept of urgency was foreign to me. Life had no beginning or end; everything in my mind was eternal. Days blended into one another, and the idea of a finite timeline simply didn’t exist. This feeling of immortality persisted well into my 20s. I’m not sure why, but it seems to be a common thread in our culture as humans. Perhaps it’s an evolutionary survival tactic, a mental construct that has allowed us to thrive without the constant burden of mortality weighing us down.


Honestly, I didn’t feel the sting of life’s flame slowly dimming until the death of my mentor, Alvin Fielder. His passing was a wake-up call, a harsh reminder of the impermanence of life. Around this same time, I suffered two other significant losses. One was the loss of my unborn child, a pain so profound it’s hard to put into words. At the time, I didn’t realize that I was at the beginning of a cycle of loss that would shape my perspective on life. After the second miscarriage and my grandmother’s passing, my urgency to live life increased a thousandfold. These losses were not just events; they were profound shifts that altered my worldview.


I was not only inspired to live but, with this new awareness that life’s flame dims with every passing second, I became intensely motivated to achieve all of my goals as quickly as possible. The realization that time is fleeting instilled in me a drive to focus like never before, to work relentlessly to accomplish everything I set out for myself. I started to see every moment as precious, every opportunity as one that shouldn’t be wasted.


Now, here I am in a new stage of life. Recently, I’ve come to understand that not everyone shares this sense of urgency. Loved ones, friends, and family aren’t all on the same page. Some of them don’t share the same sense of urgency. They live as I did before—slowly, in a state of foreverness. This realization has been a true challenge for me. I’ve never expressed to them that I see them living as if tomorrow is promised, and it’s a difficult conversation to have. You might be thinking, “He’s just jealous.” You’d be right; I am. I envy their ability to live without the constant awareness of life’s fleeting nature.


I no longer have the luxury to wait until tomorrow because I know that my life’s flame could be extinguished at any moment. This awareness has been both a blessing and a curse. It drives me to make the most of my time, but it also creates a sense of isolation. I mostly don’t know what to do with these feelings. I can’t demand that you or anyone else live like me, but I also have trouble accepting that you don’t. Or maybe you do, and the way you’re doing it looks and feels different from mine.


I can only focus on my life and the time I have to accomplish these seemingly meaningless things that will probably be forgotten. But here I am, toiling away to make my dreams a reality. I’m striving to leave a legacy, to create something lasting even though I know it might be fleeting. This is my way of coping, of making sense of the rollercoaster that is life. Let’s hope that the one who made this ride appreciates our efforts in the next phase.


Later,

Darrian



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