Jeremy N. Smith

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November 18, 2025

flower pot

Friends—

Almost twenty years ago, my wife Crissie and I were walking and talking in San Francisco.

We’d just gotten married, and this was a weekend stop between Missoula, Montana, where our wedding was, and Oaxaca, Mexico, where we’d planned our honeymoon.

We were young, and in love, and excited.

Out of a high window ledge in front of us fell a flower pot.

***

The flower pot was huge and heavy and full of dirt.

It missed me and Crissie by six inches.

Thousands of tiny pieces covered the sidewalk.

We looked down at the shards and soil.

We looked up at the window ledge.

We stared at one another.

No question—

A moment’s difference and one or both of us would’ve been finished.

****

Crissie and I didn’t linger with the flower pot.

After a brief, wondering pause, we stepped over the mess.

We continued our conversation.

A day later, we flew to Oaxaca.

A month later, we came home to our friends and careers.

A few years later, we had a kid.

Life went on.

And it’s still going.

But every once in a while, Crissie or I will turn to the other and say:

“Hey—remember the flower pot?”

***

This story reminds me of three things:

One:

I will not live forever.

Neither will Crissie.

And neither will our daughter.

It may not be a flower pot, but age, illness, or injury will get us all.

Two:

Some people wonder what happens after they die.

Others wonder who they were before they were born.

I want to be present for this moment.

And I want to receive it as a gift.

Three:

Love!

***

I invite you to contemplate your own eventual demise—

And then step back six inches.

What do you want to be doing while you are still alive?

Where do you want to live?

Who do you want to be with?

How do you want to love?

Why don’t you start right now?

***

Let me know and I’ll share the collected responses with everyone who replies.

Inspiration is as mutual as mortality.

The soil from shattered pots gathers in new garden beds.

From these grow hundreds of fresh flowers.

Lives end.

Life doesn’t.

Unbroken—

Jeremy

Deep Listening masterclass: this Thursday, 11/20, 6-8 p.m. MT, live via Zoom.

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