Once I was fully awake, I was able to better understand the meaning of my dream. I knew that it was not intended that I would enjoy my gifts by myself. I had to help people who were poor and in need. My ancestors were represented by my grandfather and great uncle, the embodiments of love and wisdom. Just as they had helped me to climb the mountain on which I stood, I had to help my brothers and sisters in need. It was a daunting task, but I knew that it was one that I had to accept. I understood that my argument with the taxi driver just minutes before I had gone to sleep was a sign that I had to put these beliefs into practice.
Given the bargain I had made, I developed a reverse calendar for the next year. The day of the dream became “day 365,” and I was counting down from there. Part of the arrangement was that I could not tell anyone. Not one single person, not even my wife, was to know about this.
Each day I was conscious of the passing time. I began to see this bargain as an actual event. This was not an intellectual game, not just some deal made in a moment of emotional duress. Knowing all of this, being fully conscious that I had only a certain number of days left, I wondered how my behavior would change. Would I be more loving? More tolerant? More understanding?
In fact, not much changed. My normal behavior overtook this new consciousness. I still got frustrated with my family and friends, gave hugs to children, admired pretty women, and was generous to those in need. Whatever emotions or reactions I had experienced in the past were the same ones I experienced during these days.
What I did learn during this year was that I had to accept things the way they were. I came to understand that I had to accomplish whatever I was meant to accomplish with the personality and skills that I had been given.
With only a couple of months left to live, my secretary DeAnn came to discuss my upcoming calendar and told me that I would be in Kabul on the day that was to be “day zero.” The moment she mentioned that particular date and told me I would be in Kabul, my reaction was quick and sharp. “No,” I said, “I need to be in Wichita that day.”
There must have been something significant in the tone of my voice, because DeAnn looked straight at me for a long moment, then said “Oops, okay, I will put you back in Wichita on that date.”
At that point I was reminded that everything happens for a reason, so the original date set by DeAnn should be honored. “I’m sorry, DeAnn,” I said. “Go ahead and keep that date.”
On my way to Afghanistan, I had a stopover in New York City. I saw a man selling Haagen Dazs ice cream. Even though I normally would not have allowed myself this indulgence, I thought of my limited time left and bought the Haagen Dazs.
Arriving in Afghanistan on day zero, I checked into my room and soon received a dinner invitation from a friend for that evening. In Afghanistan, people eat late. You are invited to arrive at 8 p.m. Then guests mingle and chat until dinner, which is served around 11 p.m. I told my friend that I would love to come, but my bedtime was 10 o’clock. Graciously, my host served dinner early to me. Afterward, as he drove me back to the hotel, he noted that it was exactly 10 p.m.
So, with only two hours left to live, what was I to do? Pray? Call my wife? Write a farewell letter? I had done everything I agreed to do during my last year. My work was finished, so I simply decided to go to sleep.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt like I was beginning again. I jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror and looked at myself as newly born and made funny faces in celebration of my new life!
Since then, I have tried to live life as if I have been given only one more day. That became ingrained in me. I go to bed saying, “I hope I have performed the duties given to me on this day to the best of my abilities.” The next day is always a clean slate on which I start a new life.
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