Hey guys,
I have a question for you today, and I want you to actually sit with it before you keep scrolling.
If you knew you had 25 fewer years than you thought, what would you stop putting off?
This past Friday marked the 25th anniversary of 9/11. Across the country, there were commemorations of remembrance. And I know for a lot of you, if you were older than seven or eight, you remember exactly where you were that day — locked to the news, watching the towers fall, watching the destruction at the Pentagon, learning about the heroism on Flight 93. And then feeling the weight of knowing we’d lost 2,977 souls, Americans, and people from countries all over the world.
That day changed everything, including my own life. I grew up in a peacetime military, training constantly, wondering if we’d ever actually “get to play.” Then 9/11 happened, and within months we were in Afghanistan. A year later, Iraq. I went from an enlisted guy to an officer, made mistakes, grew up fast, watched teammates die on the battlefield, and exactly six years and two days after those towers fell, I was nearly killed myself.
Here’s what I want you to think about. Those 2,977 people who died on 9/11 were no different from you or me. They went to work that morning pursuing their own version of greatness, trying to make a living, raise their families, love the people around them, navigate the chaos of everyday life. And then, without warning, it was over.
If they’d known — even a few weeks ahead of time — what would they have done differently? Would they have said “I’m sorry” to someone they’d had tension with? Would they have resolved something unspoken in their marriage? Would they have finally gone after the goals and dreams they’d been sitting on?
I can tell you from experience: I thought about all of this the night I nearly died on the battlefield. And here’s the thing: I didn’t think about the mistakes I’d made. I thought about everything I still wanted to do. I wished I’d spent more time with my family. I wished I’d told my wife and kids I loved them more often. I wished I’d chased more of the goals and dreams still sitting on my list.
This is the foundation of what I call Living Greatly. It’s built on two things.
First, we never know when our time is coming. I pray we never see another day like 9/11 in our lifetime. But whether it’s something as massive as that, or something as sudden as a car accident or an unexpected diagnosis, none of us actually know how much time we have. Living greatly means striving forward despite the fear, the doubt, and the “what ifs.” I went into combat knowing I could be wounded or killed. I did it anyway, because I didn’t want my family, my friends, or my kids to inherit the kind of world that produces another 9/11.
Second, we honor the fallen not merely by remembering how they died, but by being intentional about how we live because of it. I know so many people who’ve lost someone and live in guilt because that person is no longer here. I promise you, whether it’s the fallen from 9/11, first responders, or my own teammates who died fighting for what they believed in, the last thing they’d want is for you to live in sadness and guilt. They’d want you to become the best version of yourself. That’s how you honor them.
That’s why I have their names tattooed on the inside of my arm. I want to look down, and I want them looking down on me from wherever they are, saying, “You know what? That guy’s going after it. I’m proud of him.”
25 years have passed since that day. I’m 51 right now. I hope I have 25 more years. Maybe 30. But I recognize it could all be gone in the blink of an eye, and so can yours.
So here’s my question for you again, the same one I’ve been asking myself: what are you going to do to live greatly and make the most of your life, starting today?
Remember 9/11. But more than that… live greatly. It’s the greatest tribute we can pay to the people we’ve lost. Also, please check out the book below; it is a story that every American needs to hear about that day and the years to follow for the first responder community.
-Jason