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The alarm goes off.
You moan at the thought of the day starting.
You are tired.
You don’t feel like working out.
You cannot be bothered catching up with friends.
You are only excited for the day to end.
Sometimes, that feeling lasts a day.
But sometimes, that feeling lasts for years.
It is a dangerous trap.
Wishing days would go by.
My life followed this trend.
I crossed out days on a calendar, hoping that when some magical date would arrive, I would wake up excited and feeling alive.
No matter how many days I crossed, those desired feelings did not come.
Thankfully, I stumbled upon a particular genre of books.
They snapped me out of this cycle.
They helped me face each day with new joy and perspective.
They inspired me to change the way I live.
Every year, I read a book in this genre.
I call them Existential Memoirs.
And I read a good one this year.
When I returned from a workout, I found a book in my locker room with a sticky note inside.
"I hope you enjoy."
Houston Rockets Assistant Coach Garrett Jackson left it for me.
"When Breath Becomes Air." by Paul Kalanthi.
The book is an intimate retelling of a 30-year-old neurosurgeon who deals with facing his death after being diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer.
I knew straight away this would be a must-read.
Being caught up in the NBA grind.
Wanting and chasing more.
Going through the motions of day to day.
This book arrived at the exact moment I needed it.
From the NBL Finals to my wedding to the Olympics to the NBA.
"What is next?"
My head was spinning.
It had been too long since I had checked in with myself.
And a new book helps me check in with a new perspective.
With every breath we take, we are slowly dying.
It is a damn scary thought.
Humans will do anything to distract themselves from this truth.
The fear.
The unknown.
The inevitability.
I delve into my work, scroll on social media, or chase the high of the next big project.
But facing death is a gift.
Paul Kalanthi was forced to stare into the abyss at age 36 when he was diagnosed with lung cancer.
Until this point, his life had been full of focus and work.
Paul had spent a decade grinding away in his neurosurgical residency at Stanford.
100-hour weeks.
He was only months away from his life goal.
The chances of finishing looked bleak.
But the news forced him to review how he chose to live.
“Have I been living a meaningful life?” Paul asked himself.
Paul was in a struggling marriage.
Now, he cannot impact the medical community as he dreamed.
He had sacrificed so much for his work, and for what?
But Paul did not feel defeated.
With reflection, he found meaning in his journey.
“You can’t ever reach perfection, but you can believe in an asymptote toward which you are ceaselessly striving.” Paul Kalanthi.
There was joy in how challenging neurosurgery was.
He stood proud of the sacrifices he had made and the hard work he had done.
There was love when he thought of his and his wife's journey.
Thinking fondly of the small moments, such as holding hands with his wife in medical lectures.
Paul had always strived for excellence.
Although the story will not end as he imagined, he found pleasure in striving for excellence.
Facing death forced him to reflect.
He was grateful for the life he lived.
But Paul stumbled upon another gift by facing the reality of his situation.
The idea of dying helped him live with a new joy and everyday focus.
"I began to realise that coming face to face with my own mortality, in a sense, had changed nothing and everything."
He always knew he was going to die one day, but now, he was acutely aware of it.
Paul, for the first time in years, felt the warmth of the sun.
He noticed the smell of the eucalyptus on his daily walk.
His marriage improved with a newfound attention to detail.
He chose to continue his study in neurosurgery, dedicating himself to finishing what he had started.
Paul was living with greater presence and intent.
All because of the daily reminder that he will soon, one day, die.
The Roman Stoics coined a term for what Paul was experiencing.
"Memento Mori."
This translates into, "Remember you must die."
The stoics used this as a mental practice to improve their lives.
It reminds us that life is precious and that we should live each day as if it were our last.
To think of death is not to be morbid or depressing but to help us focus on what truly matters.
Our Relationships.
Our passions.
Our purpose.
Paul’s cancer helped him find clarity.
He was grateful for every moment with his wife and his newborn girl.
He continued to pursue neurosurgery with all of his might and effort.
He spent time enjoying the little beautiful moments in life.
Sadly, he did not live for long.
Paul Kalanthi passed away in 2015 at the age of 37, just a few weeks shy of 38.
He battled with cancer for 22 months.
One of the most inspiring moments of the book was in the epilogue, written by his wife.
"Although these last few years have been wrenching and difficult — sometimes almost impossible — they have also been the most beautiful and profound of my life, requiring the daily act of holding life and death, joy and pain in balance and exploring new depths of gratitude and love." Lucy Kalanithi
Books such as these serve an essential purpose in my life.
To remind me how precious it is to breathe.
To move.
To love.
To play basketball.
To be alive.
Every day, I practice Moment Mori.
I ponder on my eventual death, in return, helping me to live every day fully.
This is an ideal which I know I do not live up to.
But I try my best.
To give.
To be grateful.
To live with all my might.
Each year, I read a book like this.
A reminder to be grateful.
Here are some of my favourites:
The Happiest Man on Earth by Eddie Jaku
Mans search for meaning by Viktor Frankl
Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
If your feet are dragging.
Days feel long and difficult.
Or you are tired and uninspired.
I recommend any of the above books.
The practice of talking to death is a powerful tool.
It saved me when I was at my lowest.