We Are Fragile

Update: Here's the video of Eric's story from the local news:
Download erics_story.wmv | Tip of the hat to Mike Wagner
Tomorrow I'm back in the office. I've been catching up on e-mails and work for the better part of the last two days. I'm coming back to a hive of activity that I haven't experienced in years. It won't be easy.
But today I was reminded about what really matters—and I'm writing this down for my sake more so than yours.
We are Fragile.
Several months ago Eric Jacobs of Two Rivers Marketing woke up in the middle of the night because of a dream he had that he died young. He was compelled to record himself using the video camera on his computer. He left an intense message to his family filled with love and tears. He said goodbye to them—and then went back to bed.
Not long after that recording—a few weeks I think, Eric and three co-workers (above) were killed in a small plane crash near South Bend. Eric's premonition was tragically realized. He leaves behind four boys and a wife expecting their fifth.
Shortly after, Eric's wife found a DVD laying atop of his living will with this written on it:
We are fragile. Yet we spend the bulk of our time worrying about the pressures of everyday life. We worry about who's linking to us and who's not.
We are fragile.
Yet we have our priorities backwards. We trade quality time for quantity. Friendships for connections. Community for networks.
We are fragile.
Tomorrow I go back to deadlines, bloglines and timelines. But at least I'll have this post to remind me what really matters most.


So true.This is a beautifully written post David. The pressure of everyday life has a big impact on how we prioritize things. I feel that the term "busy" has completely lost its meaning.
Posted by: Michele Bouquet | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 04:04 AM
I feel the need to comment on this. Problem is I'm sitting here pondering over what exactly I should write - I'm a writer, yet I do not know what to write. Subconsciously I can't help thinking my lack of words says so much more than I could...Stan.
Posted by: Stan Lee | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 06:36 AM
Thank you for sharing this story, David. Incredible how Eric had this premonition and decided to leave a message (leaves me breathless). Yes… we are fragile. Life is fragile. And it’s good to remember it in our everyday lives.
Keep in mind the essential things, simple pleasures... health, food, shelter, love, family. Then take the so-called so-fake work pressure from a more distant and relative perspective. LIFE IS A PRESENT. Life is a great luck.
This thought we should cherish everyday.
This thought is what makes us “human”.
Posted by: mindblob | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 06:59 AM
Beautiful post, my friend ... this "holiday" period has given many of us cause for deeper reflection on what we consider important. For some it is a well-turned phrase, a curve, the humming of an engine, while for others, it is the sound of unbridled laughter, a momentary smile or the touching of hands. The surprising diversity of our human experiences fascinates and drives us all in different ways ... and yet, as the world circles around us tighter and tighter we confuse the signals with signs.
One of the things I love about your blog, DA, is that you are remind us of the importance of intimacy -- not just in a blogging sense, but in a human, worldly sense.
We ARE fragile, perhaps broken, but we are held together by the cupped hands of those who love us, by those who honour and remember us, and those who understand the complexity of simple choices.
Posted by: Gavin Heaton | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 07:08 AM
People are often surprised at how accessible I am, given the multitude of engagements and commitments I manage to keep.
My ability to scoop up life to the fullest is directly proportional to the number of times I let others into my life.
Think about it: time expands when we give ourselves permission to slow down and let others touch us as we choose to inspire and be open.
Every week I reach out to 3-4 people I have met, whom I may not have heard from in a while. Just to say hi, I think of you and wanted to tell you. This includes colleagues -- we especially forget to tell them how much we appreciate them. When I meet new people, I ask them to teach me what they're passionate about, sit back, and take it all in.
Funny thing is, I always seem to have plenty of time to do everything else -- it almost takes care of itself.
Posted by: Valeria Maltoni | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 07:23 AM
David,
Keep those thoughts close. I came to the same conclusion about a decade ago, and left the corporate world, trading in a prestigious position, money and security for time with my family and myself. No regrets here.
Posted by: Lewis Green | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 08:43 AM
Well David, it would seem that for both of us, we have a post that throws logic out the window with no hope of applying it here.
Having had a similar experience, this post suddenly puts the brakes on life and makes you stop and look around. Yes, we are fragile. Call someone you love - NOW! You won't regret it.
Posted by: William Tully | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 09:07 AM
Wow - I've got goosebumps. I'm sitting here in Des Moines reading this. The tragedy touched me, and now even moreso with knowledge of this tape.
Makes me want to take time out for important things and not work, work, work. Thanks for writing.
Sandy
Posted by: Sandy Renshaw | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 11:04 AM
Thanks for posting this David. The perfect way to start a Monday.
Posted by: Matt Haverkamp | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 11:13 AM
Reality is an amazing thing. Work is not reality, even though it helps take care of reality.
Having been placed on the doorstep of "what if" a few too many times, I've been reminded how lucky I am to be alive. It doesn't mean that I am any better at the juggling act (I'm reminded from time to time that I'm actually very bad at it).
Reminders like this post are necessary. Keep that flicker of hope and appreciation alive.
Posted by: Tim Jackson | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 12:01 PM
Thank you David. I am grateful for today.
Posted by: Rodney Tanner | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 12:05 PM
Everyone,
Thank you for the thoughtful comments (as usual). When I first started this blog—I vowed it would only be an "industry focused" destination.
Like life, embarking on a personal publishing journey take you places you didn't plan on going.
I always think twice about sharing stuff like this, but then when I do, I usually don't regret it. There's more to life than great design, brands and marketing. Though I usually love what I do—I need to be told to slow down.
So that's what I'm doing. This story isn't a slap in the face to me—it's a drop-kick to the groin.
Thanks for reading, commenting, and sharing here. I'm hugely appreciative of it.
Posted by: DA | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 12:20 PM
Unbelievably poignant and so eloquently put. We all need to remind ourselves of your words a little more regularly. What makes you so fragile is usually what makes you so interesting and beautiful, too. :)
Posted by: Nadine | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 01:03 PM
Beautiful post, beautiful sentiment, thank you for sharing.
Posted by: Kirsty | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 01:18 PM
Thanks for enlarging the Two Rivers story and creating meaning out of loss.
A funny little song by Alabama from years ago keeps coming to mind:
I'm in a hurry to get things done
Oh I rush and rush until life's no fun
All I really gotta do is live and die
But I'm in a hurry and don't know why
Keep creating,
Mike
Posted by: Michael Wagner | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 01:48 PM
Thank you for posting this David. What a wonderful way to remind us all about what is truly important as we start 2007.
Posted by: Judy | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 04:27 PM
OMG. Thank you David, so sad and so beautiful and so sad. I have to go hug my husband now.
xoxo
Posted by: Lori Magno | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 09:36 PM
David,
This story rocked Des Moines' advertising community. As you can imagine, for any of us who had been in the business for any length of time, we knew at least one of the four people killed. They at the least were our respected peers. At the most, our friends.
Here's the part that I find a little scary and a little sad. When the event occured, I am sure we all hugged our families, thanked God that we were spared, said a prayer or three for the entire Two Rivers family and slowed down.
For a day or two.
So few of us will make the choice that Lewis did. Or radically change our ways. Most of us just rev back up and attack the day.
Maybe the temporary pause is enough. But what if it isn't?
Drew
Posted by: Drew McLellan | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 11:49 PM
David,
Over the last few weeks, you've become one of my favorite reads. I've admired your perspective on issues of branding, strategy, creativity, and marketing. Today, I admire your perspective on perspective.
Posted by: Tim Peter | Tuesday, January 09, 2007 at 12:29 AM
Again, you nailed it.
Posted by: Jessi | Tuesday, January 09, 2007 at 08:37 AM
Wow...it reminds me of my Dad's story.
One week before he died, he called me at home to say, "I love you."
I was 31 at the time.
Until that call, he never told me that. I knew it and felt it...but it was never expressed explicitly.
Maybe we should start giving ourselves "permission to die."
I just finished reading Deepak Chopra's latest book called, "Life After Death: The Burden of Proof." If you're even remotely awake, put this book on your "must read" list.
Something to think about...
Posted by: Thomas R. Clifford | Wednesday, January 10, 2007 at 02:24 PM
Dave,
Fragile is the perfect word...captured what we are precisely; thought about your post yesterday on and off after I read it, and although your words about remembering what is really important are true, it is our fragility in life that seems to become more clear. Thanks for giving it a name....and another thoughtful post.
Marianne
Posted by: Marianne Richmond | Friday, January 12, 2007 at 09:00 AM