Translator: Yifei Zhang
Reviewer: Denise RQ "Live each day as if it is your last." How many of you have
heard that expression before? OK. How many of you actually do that each day? I got a half a wave, OK. Most of you, no. So I'm not alone. Personally, I think this is a bad idea. I'm going to talk a bit
about the expression, I'm going to give you some reasons
why I think it's a bad idea, and I am going to argue
for another alternative. So, live each day like it's your last. I did some research,
and what it appears though is this is just one of those expressions
that's been around forever. I found where several people apparently
have said it throughout history - even as far back as the Roman Empire - but I couldn't find its origin solidly
link to any one person in particular. Like most of you, I've been
hearing it most of my life, and most recently,
while watching Steve Jobs giving his now famous commencement speech
at Stanford University in 2005 on YouTube. In that speech, he specifically said
that by that time, he had made a 33-year habit out of looking in the mirror each morning
and asking himself, "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do
what I'm about to do today?" And if the answer was no
for too many days in a row then he knew he had to change something. I completely get
where he was going with this; live life to the fullest, don't settle for second best
or waste time, shake things up by using discomfort
as a change motivator. I get it. All fine and good, and great in theory, but here's what happened when I tried it. Having fully bought in
to Steve's suggestion, I woke up the morning
after watching the video, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I leaned in for a closer look
at my reflection in the mirror, and I said exactly
the same words he did. Almost immediately, however,
I got depressed. I hadn't been depressed the night before; in fact, I'd been relatively
content at bedtime, but my last day, ever? Am I really going to go into work,
even if I love it? No. Am I going to subject myself
to rush-hour traffic? I don't think so. Am I going to run menial errands
or speak to people who get on my nerves? Highly unlikely. And what about that well-women's
appointment with my OBGYN? (Laughter) Not going to go there. Where I am going to go
if it's my last day is Paris. And I'm going to max out
all my credit cards to take all the people
that I love with me. I'm going to smoke French cigarettes,
even though I quit years ago. I'm going to eat and drink
whatever I want, and flirt with a lot of French men. I'm also going to wear
the most absurd outfit that I can think of that makes me feel whimsical and eccentric instead of conservative
and socially acceptable. And I'm probably not going to floss. (Laughter) If it were literally
my last day on the planet, if I lived each day like it was, then it probably soon would be. So I watched in the mirror
that first morning as my smile turned into a frown, and the rest of the day
was essentially shot as was the day after that,
and the day after that because like any good experiment,
you have to try it more than once. There are a few things
about living each day like it's your last that don't make sense to me. First, there's the sense of panic
that can ensue when faced with an imminent expiration day
whether real or hypothetical. Urgency causes stress, and I'm sure that's not the first time
you've heard that either. I know that if I say, "I have got to,"
versus, "I really want you," my entire physiology changes. Also, in our last day scenarios
- again, mine being Paris - are entirely based on
us being physically capable of pulling off all of the things
on our list for a last day, meaning, in order for us to actually die, there would have to be some kind
of freak accident or natural disaster to take us out before midnight. Personally, I'd rather have
one of those gorgeous Parisians take me out for dinner
before midnight, but I digress. Let's talk reality. I'm a writer, but I'm also a nurse, and I have been a nurse for 25 years. My career has spanned from oncology
to heart transplantation, and most areas in between. Last days aren't pretty. I've seen a lot of people's last days. They can be peaceful at times;
sometimes, they are not. But not one person that I've taken care of has been physically capable
of accomplishing any huge thing on the day of their last breath. Not one. You're probably thinking, "She's being a little literal right now
and maybe a bit dramatic." And maybe I am. But I have a bit of a case study
to share with you that supports the findings
of my own mirror experiment. Nine years ago, one of my best friends
in the world, Janessa [Aulont] died of stage 4 breast cancer. By the time she'd become
symptomatic enough to be diagnosed
or to seek medical attention, it'd metastasized
to her lungs, liver, and bone. That diagnosis came in 2003,
and she was given six months to live. That's just 180 days. Here was a vibrant, positive,
energetic woman in her early 50s. A vegetarian, she worked out five days a week. she never smoked, and she rarely drank. That diagnosis was her mirror, and within days appearing the news, she became intensely depressed. She disappeared into her home,
and she only came out for appointments. She didn't want to speak to anyone,
and she rarely returned phone calls. She also gave away
most of her cherished possessions, including her much loved,
cherry-red Miata convertible. She had been writing a children's book,
but she didn't want to finish it, she didn't want to check
anything off her bucket list, she had absolutely no interest. Until day 181. To hear her tell the story, she woke up on that morning and said, "Uh... Wait a minute, I'm still here." (Laughter) She then marked day 181
as her new birthday, and she would refer
to those horrible six months from that point forward,
as the year of her death. Her whole attitude changed. She started writing again. She got a tattoo because she'd always
secretly wanted one (Laughter) and she asked for her car back. (Laughter) Yes she did. And she would drive around
in that convertible with her little bold head
tucked safely under a wide-brimmed hat. Her beautiful personality
came back tenfold and she lived for another three years
from that new birthday on. Day 181 became Janessa's first day. Everything she touched
from that point forward, she appreciated it. And seeing the world
through her eyes really was kind of like seeing it
through the eyes of a child. She embraced every hour of every day,
with a renewed spirit, right up until the eventual end. Yes, I do think that knowing
we are going to die someday can be a motivator for some, including Steve Jobs who was in remission
at the time of his commencement speech. But how realistic in approach is that for the average person
who's perfectly healthy? I think that most of us think
about our last days on occasion, but we then put them
in the back of our minds and go about our business. Still, some of us worry
about that time constraint, and rack our brains
on how to leave our mark on the world given our now myriad of choices, to the point of becoming
completely incapacitated. Do you know that on my estimation, approximately 15% of the adults
I looked after while working on oncology said that getting cancer was
one of the greatest gifts they'd ever been given? Yes, even for the percentage
of those who were terminal. Because of clarity, and Janessa
said exactly the same thing. Once she got through the darkness, she was able to discover
what was truly important to her, and she moved those items
to the top of her list. And her one through five gave her joy
regardless of outcome. Unpublished, she said to me once, "You know, I always wanted
to be a writer, but guess what? I've been one all along." So what's the alternative to living
each day as though it's your last? Live each day as though it's your first. If we live each day
full of wonder and appreciation while discovering a genuine sense of joy, I believe that motivation
for our truest passion would be more likely to present itself. And Janessa started writing
again after day 181 because there were
more days on the horizon not because there weren't. What a gift future days are! So I would argue that we can deal with
day-to-day routine and responsibility while pursuing our passion. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. I now look in the mirror each morning
and I ask myself, "If today were the first day of my life,
and I have more days ahead, would I want to do
what I'm about to do today?" Yes; I do want to go in to work so that I can fund
my joy projects, and eat. (Laughter) Yes, I do want to get into traffic because it can take me
where I want to go while giving me time
to listen to some great books and admire the trees along the roadway. Have you seen them?
They're actually there. And they are beautiful. Yes, I do want to feel
the accomplishment of completed tasks and maybe even give a kind word
and a smile to people who annoy me. I definitely want to keep
that OBGYN appointment because I want to know
that I'm doing everything in my power to stave off that last day
as long as possible. Janessa knew that she had a lump
in her left breast, but she chose to ignore it. Because she'd been diagnosed
with fibroids so many times, she was convinced
it was just more of the same. Please do not let this happen to you. If living each day
as though it's your last works for you, that's great. But if it doesn't, I challenge you to get up tomorrow morning look in the mirror,
rub the sleep from your eyes, and try living each day
as though it's your first, and you've been gifted a future. Be that a day, a month,
a year, or 40 years; your mirror awaits. (Applause)
