Uncovering the Life of Your Dreams,
Uncovering the Life of Your Dreams,
From where I spent most of my time-which was sitting at a desk next to a large, metal-framed window in my third-floor office at DM Realty-the streets of New York looked like a scene out of an old storybook. It wasn't always a pleasant scene, but the distraction of staring at the constant activity below helped to take my mind off my empty life.
For as long as I could remember, I had been searching for some answers to make sense of it all. There were many questions to which I wanted the answers, yet every time I thought about my life, I found myself constantly returning to one question in particular: Is this all there is?
One afternoon in late fall, while staring out the window of my office and contemplating that question, I gave up on finding the answer. I can't explain why it happened then. All I know is that I came to the conclusion that there was no satisfying answer-no purpose to or meaning for my life. No purpose for anyone else's, either. Nothing more than this.
I decided to stop trying to figure it out and admitted to myself that my search for answers was simply an exercise to assuage my fear that life was meaningless. At that moment of resignation, I decided to accept that life was just a random, mathematical, and biological evolutionary process. A miracle, of course, that it could happen, but a meaninglessness miracle, nevertheless.
One might think that finally coming to any conclusion would bring some level of relief. Instead, the only thing I sensed was loss that this was, indeed, all there was to the waste of time that I called life. At that moment, I felt completely without hope.
It was just then that my boss walked in.
"Scott!" he yelled, loudly enough to let everyone else in the office know he was there and he was unhappy. I turned quickly to respond.
"I'm ... I ... Damon, I was just thinking about the Concord account. I'm developing a strategy."
"Really? Looks like you're just wasting time. Like usual. I don't know why I even gave you that lead. If it wasn't for Karine ..." he blurted out, stopping there and closing his eyes briefly, as if to redirect his thoughts."You need to decide if you really want this job, once and for all."
I didn't know what to say, and he didn't give me much of a chance to come up with something.
"You know, there was a time when nothing could stop you from getting what you wanted. Now, you don't seem to care about anything."
He didn't wait for a response to that, either. He just turned and walked out of the room into the hallway, where my administrative assistant, Karine, who had clearly listened to the whole thing, quickly looked away as he moved past her and across the floor to his office down the hall.
Damon's personality had certainly changed since I'd first met him. He'd turned into a moody guy with little patience-not at all like the person he used to be when we were in college together or even who he'd been just a few years earlier, before he took over the company from his father.
But he was right, of course. I wasn't working on-or even thinking about-the Concord account. I didn't know why he gave me the lead, either. I wasn't even sure why he hadn't already fired me. We both knew I'd lost my passion for the job and that I was little more than a charity case. I didn't know what, if anything, would have to happen to re-engage me, not only in my career but in my life as well.
And then a real miracle happened. Well, that's when it began, anyway. I know exactly what time it was: 2:13 p.m. I remember that specific time because on that cool Tuesday afternoon in November, something unusual caught my attention. A flash of bright light reflected off the wall clock and back into my eyes, causing me to shield them with my arm.
I scanned the room for the source of the light and realized it was coming through the window from outside. Perhaps