84,600 Seconds

All men are created equal. And they are given the same number of seconds in a day. But what they chose to do with those seconds is what sets them apart. 

In a soulless office building downtown, Jack Justin looked at a saying on his computer screen.  It had been a rough couple of years for him. The economy had caused his accounting firm to cut back on both his hours and pay. He took a second job to make ends meet but had been fired from it.  He had new bosses who did not believe in him.  A fantastic career had deteriorated like a crumbling Rust Belt city.  And his family’s bond was beginning to show cracks, too.  “Money problems will do that,” he thought. He could hear his wife screaming about the bills as he sat there.

All men are created equal. And they are given the same number of seconds in a day. But what they chose to do with those seconds is what sets them apart. 

He drew doodles on the sheet of graph paper.  What could he do differently? He felt like he was working all the time anyway.  When he got home, he just collapsed in his recliner, leaving his wife to hold the family together.  The list of people who believed in him was shrinking. She was gone. And he was about to join the list himself.

Jack was suffering from depression. And it was choking his soul.

All men are created equal. And they are given the same number of seconds in a day. But what they chose to do with those seconds is what sets them apart. 

He rubbed his forehead. The bright fluorescent lights gave him the mother of all headaches.  A bottle of ibuprofen beckoned.

“What can I do differently? he thought.  It was a cry to God.  But he knew it would go unanswered.

He wrote down the names of the three people who had hurt his family the most.  He stared at the list and felt his blood boil.  But he knew they didn’t care.  He remembered the old quote he had heard Nelson Mandela say once, “Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.”

He was drinking poison from tw0-liter bottles.

The office was quiet. Everyone else had gone home. He was finishing up his last project for the week.  He had called Ann and told her he would miss dinner.

All men are created equal. And they are given the same number of seconds in a day. But what they chose to do with those seconds is what sets them apart.

His ambitions’ pilot light had gone out.  All his dreams had turned into nightmares.  The tan walls of his office closed in on him.  Was it worth going on? Was life worth living?

“Yes,” he thought. “Yes, it is.” Even though he felt helpless, he knew something better was on the horizon.

He had to break out of the depression. He had to keep pushing forward.  But how?

All men are created equal. And they are given the same number of seconds in a day. But what they chose to do with those seconds is what sets them apart. 

He took a breath and then another one. Deep breaths, each filling his lungs completely before he emptied them as he exhaled.

His problems didn’t exist because of the three people or the economy or the President or the Man in the Moon. His problems were because of one person: Him.

That’s a hard thing for a man to realize. Particularly one whose ego and pride blinded him to reality.

“OK,” he thought, “the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.” He looked at his computer screen again and read the quote yet again.

All men are created equal. And they are given the same number of seconds in a day. But what they chose to do with those seconds is what sets them apart. 

He lived in a country where opportunity existed. He had been blessed with the gift of time. But what he did with that time — well, THAT was what was holding in back.

It was about personal responsibility.  Yes, it was an out-of-date concept. Not in style in this age of looking for someone else to blame for your woes.  He had been doing it. He had blamed his boss, his company, the consultant, the President, Congress and God knows who else.

He stood up and turned his desk over. The laptop and everything on it crashed to the ground.  The janitor across the building looked at Jack like he had lost his mind.

Maybe he had. But he had to do SOMETHING.  He had to take a bold first step toward a new life.

All men are created equal. And they are given the same number of seconds in a day. But what they chose to do with those seconds is what sets them apart. 

There are 86400 seconds in a day.  Jack didn’t want to waste a single one.

He picked up his project and put it in his boss’ mailbox.  He then kicked a trash can as hard as he could just to hear the noise.  On his drive home, he went home another way.  And as soon as he walked through the threshold, he kissed his wife deeply on the mouth.

She pulled back, shocked and said, “What the heck is wrong with you?”  He smiled and grabbed the baby and gave him a bath.  And then he read to his oldest daughter.

Jack became a man of action. Each second would be precious. No longer would he be the king of procrastination.  He would get as many things done in a day, leaving the next day open for opportunities.  And then the next day there would be even more.  It was like a legal pyramid scheme.  Jack was too busy. But his life began to turn around.

Six months later, Jack and Ann were out at the fanciest restaurant in town to celebrate his new career. The waiter popped the cork off the Champagne and poured two glasses. Jack smiled at his wife, who was much happier now that she gotten her husband back from whatever hell he had been hiding in.

“Here’s to a better life,” Jack smiled as they clinked glasses. He looked at her blue eyes and hung onto this moment as tightly as he could.

It was one of 84,600 seconds he never wanted to end.