3 things I learned while my plane crashed - Ric Elias
So imagine a big explosion as you climb through 3,000 ft. Imagine a plane full of smoke. Imagine an engine going cl cl cl cl cl cl cl. Sounds scary. Well, I had a unique seat that day. I was sitting in W D. I was the only one who could talk to the flight attendants, so I looked at them right away, and they said, "No problem, we probably hit some birds." The pilot had already turned the plane around, and we weren't that far; you could see Manhattan.
Two minutes later, three things happen at the same time. The pilot lines up the plane with the Hudson River; it's usually not the route. He turns off the engines. Now imagine being on a plane with no sound, and then he says three words— as unemotional three words as I've ever heard. He says, "Brace for impact." I didn't have to talk to the flight attendant anymore; I could see in her eyes it was terror. Life was over.
And I want to share with you three things I learned about myself that day. I learned that it all changes in an instant. We have this bucket list; we have these things we want to do in life. I thought about all the people I wanted to reach out to that I didn't, all the fences I wanted to mend, all the experiences I wanted to have, and I never did. As I thought about that later on, I came up with a saying, which is: "I collect bad wines 'cause if the wine is ready and the person is there, I'm opening it." I no longer want to postpone anything in life, and that urgency, that purpose, has really changed my life.
The second thing I learned that day, and this is as we clear the George Washington Bridge, which was by not a lot, I thought about, "Wow, I really feel one real regret." I've lived a good life in my own humanity and mistakes. I've tried to get better at everything I tried, but in my humanity, I also allowed my ego to get in, and I regret the time I wasted in things that did not matter with people that matter. I thought about my relationship with my wife, with my friends, with people, and after, as I reflected on that, I decided to eliminate negative energy from my life. It's not perfect; it's a lot better. I've not had a fight with my wife in two years; it feels great. I'm no longer trying to be right; I choose to be happy.
The third thing I learned, and this is as your mental clock starts going, "15, 14, 13," you can see the water coming. I'm saying, "Please blow up, right? I don't want this thing to break in 20 pieces like you've seen in those documentaries." And as we're coming down, I had a sense of, "Wow, dying is not scary. It's almost like we've been preparing for it our whole lives." But it was very sad; I didn't want to go. I love my life, and that sadness really framed in one thought, which is: I only wish for one thing. I only wish I could see my kids grow up.
About a month later, I was in a performance by my daughter, a first grader—not much artistic talent yet—and I'm bawling. I'm crying like a little kid, and it made all the sense in the world to me. I realized at that point, by connecting those two dots, that the only thing that matters in my life is being a great dad. Above all. Above all, the only goal I have in life is to be a good dad.
I was given the gift of a miracle of not dying that day. I was given another gift, which was to be able to see into the future and come back and live differently. I challenge you guys that are flying today: imagine the same thing happens on your plane—and please don't—but imagine, and how would you change? What would you get done that you're waiting to get done because you think you'll be here forever? How would you change your relationships and the negative energy in them? And more than anything, are you being the best parent you can? Thank you.