A recent New York Times piece gave me pause.

It was about Jeremy Renner, the actor who survived being crushed by a 7-ton snowplow. In his new memoir, he describes the moment of impact.

Not as terrifying.

Not even painful.

But peaceful.

He writes about feeling “an exhilarating peace,” a strange calm, and a sudden panoramic view of his life. Researchers call this a near-death experience, an NDE. And apparently, they’re more common than we think.

The stories vary. But the themes repeat:

• A sudden loss of fear
  

• A stronger pull toward purpose
  

• A sense of connection to something larger
  

These themes, while deeply personal, also echo findings in research. A NY Post article on a 2023 study in Resuscitation suggests these experiences may reflect "other dimensions of reality," with researchers observing heightened consciousness during cardiac arrest.

That part hit home.

I’ve had my own brushes.

When the SUV hit me head-on during a bike ride in 2011, I flatlined. Twice. I wasn’t conscious long enough to register anything like Renner’s calm. My more classic near-death moment came later, years into recovery.

It was during a para-rowing race in Hartford. My boat capsized. Due to limited core strength, I was strapped onto my seat, underwater, upside down, under the boat, and my strap had gotten caught in my life vest.

My air was running out, so I twisted my hips just enough to get my head above water to grab some air and fall back down again. Twist, breathe, sink. Twist, breathe, sink.

But I didn’t panic.

What came over me wasn’t peace but a kind of stillness. I had no illusions about the danger. But beneath the adrenaline was this quiet clarity:

I wanted to live.

And what surprised me most wasn’t the danger.
It was the calm.

I didn’t panic.
I didn’t see my life flash before me.
But I did have one crystal-clear thought:

I still want to live.

After all the self-pity and fear.
After the identity loss.
After the “Why me?” questions.
I still fought; not because I feared dying, but because I knew I wasn’t done living.

And that moment gave me something I didn’t expect.

Clarity.

Maybe even purpose.

There’s data to back this up. People who survive near-death experiences often come out different. Less afraid. More focused. They quit jobs, leave bad relationships, stop chasing the wrong things. They make space for meaning.

That tracks.

I don’t fear death the way I used to. Or failure, for that matter.

I’ve failed plenty, in ways that used to level me. Now? It just comes with the territory.

I didn’t roll away from Wall Street because I had some grand reinvention plan. I physically couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t commute, travel, or push like I used to. But I also realized that I didn’t need to.

What I needed was:

Purpose.
A platform.
And people.

A way to keep building something that mattered.

Renner isn’t the only one. Mary Neal, a spine surgeon who nearly drowned during a kayaking trip, described her own NDE as a “reunion” with something larger and walked away with a new sense of direction. She said she didn’t just survive. She was sent back with work still to do.

You don’t need to nearly die to figure that out.

But I’ll tell you, things do get real clear when you do.

And the question that sticks with me isn’t “Why did this happen?”

It’s: “What will I do with the time I still have?”

Have you had a moment like that? Something that snapped the picture into focus? I’d love to hear about it. Drop a comment, forward this to someone, or reply with your story.

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