On November 1st, I wrote a short story on this blog called ‘Taking it for granted‘. It was about an unnamed woman in the middle of perhaps dying in a car accident. Between moments, though, she is transported into a blank world and someone we might assume to be God winds back the clock for her.

The crux of the story is this: Everyone has three chances to hit CTRL-Z on their life. If you wish for it passionately enough, then you appear before God (or someone I imagine is like the Architect from The Matrix) and he gives you a choice. “Do you want to use one of your lifelines to undo this episode of your life?”

Whatever you decide, all memory of this decision is wiped. You continue your life, oblivious, taking for granted all the goodness that you had almost lost. However, the memories return the next time your desperation drives you before God. You end up with a catalogue of situations that show very clearly what you consider to be important in your life. The irony is, of course, that back in your earthly existence you have no opportunity to use this incredible self-understanding.

The most boggling thing to contemplate is, “How would you use your lifelines if you knew you only had three?” So you say something devastating and hurtful to your friend. Would you take it back? You accidentally set the house on fire. Would you take it back? You lose your mother’s most beloved heirloom necklace. Would you take it back? Someone discovers that you cheated in your Year 12 exam. Would you take it back?

In my story, the woman chose to use her lifelines on her career dreams, love and survival. Those are the most important things I can think of. But even then, unless you were dying, how could you be sure? Is he the one for you? Maybe you were never meant to be a doctor.

And then to die, go to Heaven (or wherever) and realise that you didn’t use any of your lifelines because you had held onto them too tightly. Or to spend your last one, burdened with the realisation that you had squandered the other two.

Well. That’s a lot of philosophy to pack into a 213 word story. The story is not as random as you may think. I’ve been telling myself this story for about three years. I tell it every time I feel like something terrible has happened. Three years ago, I was in a car accident. I was extremely shaken and upset, angry that I had lost my car, angry at my stupidity. People say, “It could have been worse.” Maybe it was. Maybe until I used up one of my lifelines, the accident had left me a quadriplegic. And maybe it was important enough for me to use one of my precious chances. I remind myself not to take my good life for granted.