The Day The Music Stopped

“For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: 'If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?' And whenever the answer has been 'No' for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”

I remember the day as if it was yesterday.

A Saturday morning in early October.

7:00am.

Clear and cool.

Through my hermetically sealed windows on the 18th floor, I could see the sun glistening on the Connecticut River.

The leaves of a glorious New England autumn on full display.

All of the glitz and glitter from graduating from law school, taking the bar exam, and starting out at a prestigious Big Firm had faded away.

The succession of 70 hour weeks and mandatory Saturdays had begun to wear me down.

I looked across my mahogany desk piled high with files to the credenza with my time sheets on which I marked the value of my existence in six minute increments.

I thought about the long day ahead.

I thought about the harvest festival fair that I’d miss with my kids.

This beautiful fall day that I’d spend working on a brief that would suck my soul.

And I asked out loud (to no one because no one was listening): Is this the way it will be for the next thirty or forty years?

Indeed, it was 25 years before I freed myself from what one therapist called “the golden handcuffs.”

Yes, I made a lot of money.

I got the corner office.

I got the nice car, and the sprawling house in the suburbs, and the big boat.

Yes, I’d become a “success.”

But I wasn’t happy.

Truth be told: It wasn’t easy to escape.

In fact, it was pretty scary.

But now, I wake up every single day, excited and on fire about the work I get to do.

I don’t have many regrets. But I do regret not having the courage to pivot sooner.

Because life is short. And joy is your birthright.

If your heart is telling you that it's time for a new chapter, listen.