Kobe Bryant’s Untimely Death Made Me Think About How Fragile Life Really Is
On immortality, nihilism, and the life of a true icon.
I woke up to terrible news today.
I usually make it a point not to check my phone first thing in the morning, but for some reason, I made an exception today.
Maybe it’s because its the last day of the Chinese New Year festivities.
I slept in and woke up feeling relaxed, so I thought some mindless scrolling on social media was just what the doctor ordered.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and thumbed open my Facebook app, only to be greeted with this:
“Kobe Bryant and his daughter, Gianna, among 9 killed in a helicopter crash in California”
My morning went straight down the toilet.
I’m not writing this for my readers.
I am not writing this to gain more views. I‘m not writing this to exploit the passing of a legend to get more eyeballs on my writing.
Honestly, I’m doing this for myself.
I’m shaken by Kobe’s untimely passing.
I have found journaling to be a good antidote for a clouded mind. It beats plain old introspection. It certainly beats the hell out of lying in bed for hours, watching your mind spiral down strange, haunted subterranean halls.
There’s a sense of clarity that comes with putting pen to paper.
A sense of productivity. Of doing something, anything.
So I guess this article is me inking down my thoughts, and in doing so I attempt to play a feeble role in paying tribute to the giant that is Kobe Bryant.
A Winner
“I’m a winner, you ROOT for winners, dick.”
— Gary Vee
I don’t watch basketball, but I watch Kobe Bryant.
How is that so, you ask?
Well, I like to watch winners.
I like to watch people who are at the top of their game. People who transcend their sport, escape their niche.
I like to watch people who win at life, and Kobe Bryant was a winner.
Winners fascinate me. They motivate me.
Much to the chagrin of my family, one of my favourite things to do is to stay up late and watch hours of YouTube videos.
I would watch documentaries, practice sessions, speeches — anything I can get my hands on.
It’s my own little “me time” if you will.
I was first in awe of Arnold Schwarzenegger.
“The Governator” has lived the life of a dozen successful men combined.
I mean, who emigrates to America without speaking the language, proceeds to become one of the greatest bodybuilders of all time, retires to become the highest-paid action star of his generation, retires again to marry into the Kennedy family and become the governor of California?
All in one lifetime.
I’m on a Floyd Mayweather spree now, but extreme winners like Michael Jordan, and indeed Jordan’s protege Kobe Bryant, are some of my favourite people to watch.
They are competitors who have conquered their respective niches and are also phenomenal at business, relationships and life.
In Kobe’s case, Barack Obama himself stated: “ Kobe was a legend on the court and just getting started in what would have been just as meaningful a second act.”
Kobe retired from basketball in 2016, and since then has devoted his time to his businesses, philanthropy and family.
He and his daughter were on the way to basketball practise when the tragedy occured.
Sometimes Life Doesn’t Make Sense (And That’s Okay)
“God is dead, and we have killed him, you and I!”
— Nietzche
2 years ago, I went through a period of deep introspection.
That introspection led me down a path of deep existential Nihilism.
If you think the dog of depression is bad, Nihilism is 10x worse.
It is the worst feeling I’ve felt by far, and news of Kobe’s death this morning reminded me of the questions that sparked my Nihilistic phase.
Why do bad things happen to good people?
And, at a broader level:
Is there a meaning to life? Or have we been lied to, fed some sickly-sweet candy bullshit, and the truth is life is utterly, totally random and without purpose.
I’ll go out on a limb here and say that Kobe Bryant was, by and large, a positive force for humanity.
Sure, he committed adultery. And there was that sexual assault allegation when he was 25. There were complaints of selfishness, of ruthless competitiveness amongst his teammates, especially early in his career.
Some people love it, are thrilled by it, when a superstar is brought to their knees. We all have that ugly part of us that loves seeing someone high and proud being humbled.
It helps us cope with our insecurity, our feelings of inferiority.
I personally think that whatever mistakes Kobe made, whatever personal flaws he had — he made up for it many times over.
The droves of fans around the world he inspired.
The tens of millions he raised for charity.
So then why did he die in a horrific helicopter crash?
Why did his 13-year-old daughter die? Why did everyone on board perish?
“Is your cucumber bitter? Throw it away. Are there briars in your path? Turn aside. That is enough. Do not go on to say, ‘Why were things of this sort ever brought into the world?
— Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
I came out of my period of introspection understanding this one simple fact of life:
Some questions are not meant to be asked, let alone answered.
What snapped me out of my Nihilistic state (and probably saved my sanity) was coming to terms with these 2 points:
- It is impossible to think your way out of some questions. The key is to feel. (More on this in another article.)
- There is no inherent meaning to life. The meaning of life, paradoxically enough, is to give life a meaning.
Once I understood this, I found a modicum of peace.
Instead of bemoaning the fact that some people pass before their time, be glad that we were even able to be alive in the first place. What joy it is, to be conscious, to be able to interact with each other, to enrich one another on this human journey.
The odds of being born as Homo Sapiens is 400 trillion to 1.
What are the odds, then, of being born human, then becoming an all-time basketball great, making hundreds of millions of dollars while touching countless human lives in the process?
Kobe lived an exceptional life.
Celebrate that.
On Immortality (And The Fragility Of Life)
“We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”
— Charles Bukowski
Superheroes aren’t supposed to go out like that.
And that’s what Kobe was.
He was “The Black Mamba” with his patented Mamba Mentality.
We tend to put our cultural heroes on a pedestal, and time and time again we act surprised when our heroes prove all too human, with red blood flowing in their veins instead of golden ichor.
I’m no different.
I remember being surprised when the family of a retail billionaire perished in the 2019 Sri Lankan Easter bombings.
There was a part of me that believed that if you were a billionaire, you were untouchable. I believed that hyper-successful people rise above the need to bow to the whims of fickle Fate.
I was wrong.
This quote bears repeating:
“We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”
— Charles Bukowski
We are all on this journey together, and if there’s one thing I’d like you to take away from this article, Dear Reader, its to live life fearlessly and empathetically.
Ask that girl out. Hug your family tight every morning. Connect with that old friend! Forgive your arch-nemesis and call up a forgotten mentor to thank them for the help rendered.
There are only so many tomorrows to squander.
Human lives are like uncovered candles, burning unerringly bright. Logically, we know the candle is not going to burn forever — the flame devours the wick like the passing of time ravages our bodies. Nonetheless, we act like proud immortals. We squander irrecoverable time and neglect hard-forged relationships. Then without warning, a stray wind blows and the flame sputters out, and all that is left are wisps of faint, fast-disappearing smoke, and a cold, dark room where light once dwelled.
As for Kobe, he may be gone, but his spirit endures.
His family is set for generations because of his hard work and savvy business investments.
He left his imprint on the world of basketball and beyond. He influenced untold generations to come.
His name will pass into legend, his deeds rippling across aeons.
It’s immortality, of a sort.
Dear Basketball,
You gave a six-year-old boy his Laker dream And I’ll always love you for it. But I can’t love you obsessively for much longer. This season is all I have left to give.
My heart can take the pounding My mind can handle the grind But my body knows it’s time to say goodbye.
And that’s OK. I’m ready to let you go. I want you to know now So we both can savor every moment we have left together. The good and the bad. We have given each other All that we have.
And we both know, no matter what I do next I’ll always be that kid With the rolled up socks Garbage can in the corner :05 seconds on the clock Ball in my hands. 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1
Love you always, Kobe
by Kobe Bryant (retired)
My deepest condolences go out to Kobe’s family and friends, and all nine passengers whose lives were tragically cut short today.