I'm sitting in my high rise in San Diego, looking down at the bustling streets below me.

Dozens of cars are stuck in traffic, locked together in an unmoving mass of metal and rubber,

waiting for a few colorful LED bulbs to flicker colors which dictate their next move.

I can't help but hope their day won't be wasted on trivial things,

hitting refresh on their

email browser, sharing a disingenuous post on social media, subjecting themselves to menial

and spiritually torturous labor in the great pursuit of the almighty dollar at the expense

of their happiness and freedom.

I hope they are going afterlife with all they have, engaging in life,

striving to make a difference, and living with unrestrained love for the people in their lives.

If there's one thing I've learned throughout my recent trials, it is this, death awaits us all.

It is an impartial master, a force unsuade by pleading privilege or prominence.

It awaits us all and shows no favor among its choice of victims. There's no escaping it,

whether rich or poor, young or old, black or white, we all share the same fate. Yet so often we

develop amnesia regarding our mortality, a trap in which it is all

too easy to fall in our busy and hyper-connected world. Death does not leave a note in our day

planner. It does not reserve a place in our calendars bidding us farewell. Death may choose to take us

with no preamble, no warning, and no second chance to rectify our wrongdoings,

and to try to live our lives again in a more meaningful and fulfilling way. We have no control of

its coming and no capacity to surmise the time of its arrival. It waits for us all. Yet we live

as if it is something estranged from our lives.

And therein lies the greatest lesson, the passing of my friend and father have taught me the importance of urgency.

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