Spoiler alert: You will die.
In early December last year, I embarked on a daring adventure, aiming to ride from Oklahoma to Yaviza, Panama—the northern tip of the infamous Darién Gap. It's the end of the road, quite literally.
Armed with a dream, I heard the questions: Are you crazy? Is it safe? Who are you going with? My answers weren't reassuring, and no, I didn't tell my mom.
Why? Because the real question isn't about safety—it's about living. As William Wallace, portrayed by Mel Gibson in Braveheart says, "Every man dies, not every man truly lives."
Too often, we let fear steer the wheel, creating lives driven by avoidance. Don't do that; it's too dangerous. Don't eat that; it'll cause cancer. Don't go there; it's unsafe.
So, how did my adventure end? Halfway through, as I was reaching Orizaba, Mexico, my bike failed with an extreme wobble in the rear end and sent me down on the right side. I didn't have a scratch on me but suffered a fractured collarbone and rib, bruised but unshaken.
I lived to tell this tale—and to try again someday (I am not easily deterred).
Accepting mortality isn't about recklessness; it's about understanding that life is finite. It's not avoiding death but embracing the moments in between. Those moments, whether on a road to Panama or at your local park, are where life truly exists.
Let's not waste it worrying about the inevitable. Instead, take the path less traveled, call that friend, savor that risky dessert, or plan your own epic journey.
Not all of us truly live. Be one of the ones who do. Accept your mortality.
By doing so, you might just learn to live fully—starting today.