I could feel the cold of the rink biting at my skin. I prepared to go out for my next shift. When I went out, Seanny won the faceoff back to me. Like clockwork I swiftly skated the puck behind the net, but I looked up to see a player from the New York Applecore bearing down on me. I chipped the puck around him and attempted to avoid a collision, but I was unsuccessful in doing so as my outstretched arm violently met the body of the other player, bending my wrist back in an undesirable way. As I made my way to the bench, I could feel an excruciating pain racing through my wrist. An accidental injury had taken away something I love. It would only keep me out for five weeks, but that is a long time to be away from something so important to me.
Contrary to what one may think, this is not an essay about hockey. This is an essay about life. As I sat there on the bench, watching the play unfold over and over again in my mind, I realized that anything can be taken away in a matter of seconds. Something I love can easily be stolen by chance as if by a thief in the night. As far as God is concerned, all things are up for the taking. I realized that I have to live each day like my last and that I have to tell the people I love that I love them while I still can. I knew from that day on that I had much more to lose than hockey, and the fact of the matter is that all things can easily be lost.
I looked at all the things that occur in the world, random killings, fluke accidents, and natural disasters. None of these things are in my control and nor will they ever be. Every day something on the news reminds me of how unpredictable life is. I am not invincible, I am not immune to injury, I am not without loss or natural failure, and I cannot choose my future. I can however, control how I live my life in light of these facts. So I live my life with passion and ambition. I live my life the best I can and try to be loving and generous. When I say goodbye to my parents, I may never see them again. Sometimes I am ignorant to this, but I always try to depart from their presence on good terms, for it could be the last time I talk to them.
I sat on that bench, wincing at the throbbing pain, and that is when I realized what I believe. I believe that permanence is non-existent. I believe that everything I have cannot always be mine. I believe that if I close my eyes for just one minute, and get too comfortable with where I am and what I have, that when I open my eyes it will all be gone.