I work full time and I write full time (which means I sleep part time). One of my biggest desires is to drop the full time job that cages my soul so I can embrace the full time that feeds my universe.

Earlier this year, a co-worked succumbed to a severe case of pneumonia. It weas quick and tragic. He left behind a wonderful family who will remember him always. He was quiet at work and spent most of his time in his office, but always friendly when he dared leave his space.

I was thinking about him this morning while I was in my own tucked-away corner of work. I was pondering the kind of life where we all work for retirement, dreaming that, if we can get to the point that we don't have to trade our time for money, we can enjoy what the world has to offer with the last fifteen years on our clock. I kept thinking that this man never got there, and how much he would never get to explore.

This afternoon, the owner of the company gathered my team together because he needed to inform us that another member of the company had passed unexpectedly last night. We all stood in shock in the moment, then the owner walked out so business could resume.

So business could resume. This is what we work for. All the effort we pour into our careers, the stress we endure for someone else's company.
And when we pass, it only takes a few minutes for work to move on, rolling over our still-warm body.

His tea mug, his sunglasses, each personal item at his work area is still there, the looming reminder of what stays behind when we pass. How long will it take before someone collects it? How long until his things are replaced by the belongings of another person who never met him but will be doing his job? A month? A week? Tomorrow?

We trade our time, our life, for money. We give our everything to people who are ready to replace us in a moment. Would we be expected to give our two-week notice before our death? How long before we are forgotten? How many extraordinary people have passed before outliving their ordinary life?

My heart breaks for his family. I know he spent a lot of time watching Spongebob with his grandkids. My hope is, even if the machine of industry rolls over him, he had many people in his life who will never forget him.