This is the fourth installment of ESEReport.com’s Second Chances blog series.

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For the most part, I minded not how the hours went. It was morning, and lo, now it is evening, and nothing memorable is accomplished. ~ Henry David Thoreau, 19th Century American Transcendental Philosopher

The Lord is not being slow in carrying out his promises, as some people think he is; rather he is being patient with you. ~ 2 Peter 3:9

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February 28, 2024 (San Jose, CA) ~ I started the morning like I always do. Sporting blue pajamas with white pinstripes and my trusty brown slippers, I made my way to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. After preparing a couple of cups, I spent the rest of the early morning watching MSNBC, sipping the cup of joe, and talking with Sandra as she got ready for work. 

The morning continued as usual. I read the daily mass, said morning prayers, did 10 minutes of mindfulness practice, and went to the kitchen for breakfast. That too was like any other day. I took morning meds with a 16 ounce glass of water, ate oatmeal with berries and walnuts, and finished off the meal with a hard-boiled egg and another glass of water.

After breakfast, I got ready for a morning walk. The day was unusually springlike. Instead of wearing the usual black Adidas track pants and black NorthFace windbreaker, I put on a pair of khaki shorts and a blue long sleeve dry-fit shirt. After slathering my face with sun block, putting on a wide-brimmed hiking hat, lacing up my black Adidas crossfit shoes, and filling up a Hydro Flask water bottle, I headed out the door.

Since I had been nursing a little cold for a few days, I decided to go on a leisurely mile and a half stroll, rather than the usual fast-paced four mile walk. My podcast selection for the day was The Armchair Expert with Dax Sheppard. It’s a cool podcast with interesting guests. This time the guest was Bradley Cooper. I ended up getting bored pretty fast. For some reason, listening to the exploits of two handsome actors wasn’t moving me. I spent the rest of the walk with the Doobie Brothers.

My daily routine usually comes to an end once I’m out of the shower, dressed for the day, and finished eating lunch. This is the time of day when I work on a few little projects. I teach a high school student leadership class, facilitate the Latino Leadership Alliance (LLA) Academy, and volunteer on the San Jose State University Latino Alumni Network board. I also do occasional speaking engagements for my book and volunteer with a national transplant advocacy organization. When I feel creative, I write for this blog.

I use the word “dressed” loosely because my daily uniform is a pair of sweats, sweatshirt, and the trusty brown slippers. Most of the busy work I do is on my laptop. After the morning routine on February 28th, I settled in to read for a couple of hours. Benjamin Franklin: An American Life, by Walter Isaacson currently occupies my reading time. I spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Erica’s puppy Uchis, watching the news, and scrolling through social media. “My name is Eddie and I am a social media junky.” Step 1 is admitting the problem.

I emerged from my Tik Tok stupor just in time to make dinner, a cool little dish that Sandra taught me to prepare. I began by cutting potatoes, carrots, zucchini, onions, and a couple of chicken breasts. After placing everything into a glass baking dish, I spread Campbell’s cream of chicken soup over the top, sprinkled sweet peas into the pan, and stuck it all into the oven. An hour and a half later, “voila!”. Sandra, Erica, and I shared stories about our day over a nice meal. We rounded out the evening binge watching Griselda on Netflix.

That sounds like a pretty good day for a retired heart transplant recipient. Some might say that I deserve a day like February 28, 2024, and many more.

I started working part time after school when I was 15 years old. There were untold hours burning the midnight oil to make up for my initial college failure. What followed was a relentless climb up the corporate and political ladders. Then there was the horrific daily, sometimes hourly, fight for life during the summer of 2010. The hardest climb was my ten-year battle with heart failure that led to transplant while doing consulting work. 

Despite the thinking that I may have earned a relaxing retirement, I felt uneasy throughout the day. There was a slight churn in my stomach. It was like something was missing or just not right. I ignored the sensation and went on with the day, but the feeling never quite faded away. Even though I still felt a little anxious, I went to bed with an overall feeling that February 28th was a pretty good day and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, my routine started all over again. The worried sensation had disappeared. After the morning ritual and lunch, I opened up the laptop to put finishing touches on the day’s lesson plan for high school students. I meet with them once a week. On the drive to the school, I thought about how to present the concepts in an upbeat and interactive way. The students and I engaged in a great discussion about the importance of emotional intelligence for leaders.

I feel alive, useful, and productive when I’m working with students and LLA leaders, sharing my story with Summer in the Waiting Room readers, advocating for equitable healthcare, writing, and speaking with groups large and small. We live in a society where work, productivity, and industriousness are valued almost above everything else. I grew up in a home where hard work was the answer to nearly any problem. 

That’s why I feel uneasy and anxious when I have a day like February 28th. My subconscious (the Boo Voice) starts asking why I’m not working and making a substantial contribution to the household income. I have a new heart for crying out loud. Why am I wasting time playing fetch with Uchis, sitting back on the couch reading about some old guy who lived 200+ years ago, and scrolling through LinkedIn while everyone else is achieving?

Upon reflecting on that day, I remember that God has given me a great gift – a second chance at this thing we call life. I’m pretty sure He didn’t give me a second chance to toil my life away for material things, recognition, and self-aggrandizement. I say “pretty sure” because the Boo Voice and society are tugging at my ears telling me otherwise. We all struggle with that balance of working our passion for good and seeking worldly success.

It’s wonderful to see a student’s eyes light up when they get a concept or when a LLA cohort shares stories of true servant leadership. Listening to people share stories of their own families’ overcoming heart disease fills my soul with faith, hope, and love. Deep down inside, I know that the things I love to do make a positive impact on people. I need to stay focused on doing them for that reason.

I try to make the best of this second chance by trying to focus on what really matters. I’m starting to accept and understand the value of mindfulness and the Transcendentalist principle of being aware and awake for every moment. Sometimes it works like a charm. On the few days when “nothing memorable is accomplished” and feelings of something is missing haven’t crashed the party, my purpose and passion are crystal clear.

The Boo Voice and societal expectations to be “successful” make that hard to sustain. But, I’ll stay with it. St. Peter reminds me that ‘the Lord is being patient.” Good thing for me. I’ll get there . . . someday. As Mom would say, si Dios quiere (God willing).