If your house caught on fire, what would you take with you? 
What, if you couldn’t take it, would you truly miss?

This past weekend, I had about 60 seconds to answer those questions when part of my apartment building caught on fire. Several floors had to be gutted and as a result of putting the fire out, there was extensive leaking throughout the building. Fortunately, I got out safe and my apartment was unharmed, with the exception of mild smoke fumes.

As I think back to Saturday morning, I recall what happened and how I felt in those initial heart-pounding moments, and in the moments thereafter as my neighbors rallied around one another in the cold New York City air, watching part of our building go up in flames.

It amazes me how people come together in times of tragedy and hardship, supporting, loving and leaning on each other in an indescribably moving way. As I stood outside the building with the people I share walls with, it really hit me: We need to experience hardship, and sometimes even tragedy. Without it, we are simply unable to gauge and appreciate how precious life is.

In a world where we expend so much energy building financial, physical and emotional fortresses around ourselves, experiencing hardship and tragedy reminds us of how fragile we are. When things don’t go our way or something unthinkable happens, we cannot help but stop and think about how life is full of constant and often unexpected change. Ironically, the fortresses we build to “protect” ourselves actually make us less nimble when we do try to adapt to the inevitable changes that come our way. The fire was a reminder that the best way to grow and experience happiness in the long run is to embrace moments of hardship and tragedy, rather than fear and resist them.

I also learned that you never quite know how you’ll react in traumatic situations until they are happening to you. The fire certainly reminded me that the more material stuff I have, the easier it is to lose sight of what is really important. And in the one minute I had to grab something and exit the building, it became astonishingly clear to me what really mattered.

As I reflected over the past few days, I really thought about those two questions:

If my house caught on fire, what would I take with me?
And what, if I couldn’t take it, would I truly miss?

I believe that for each of us, the answers to those two questions reveal what really matters and how we should be prioritizing our lives.

So, what did I take?

My laptop and my passport.

I chuckle, “Of course I’d take those two things.” I grabbed the laptop- for the thousands of pictures that remind me of my experiences and how I’ve grown, as well as for the several projects I’ve been working on that are of immense importance to me. And I grabbed my passport because culture, travel and exploration are among the things I value most.

What did I not take that I would truly miss?

It’s not the clothes, electronics or books- those are all easily replaceable. The only things I would likely miss are select pieces of jewelry that remind me of my family and travels, as well as my journals, which capture how I felt at various moments throughout my life in ways that my memory cannot regenerate on its own.

My answer to this question hinted at what really matters to me. It isn’t the stuff. What really matters are the people I love most- my family, my friends- and the profound experiences I’ve been fortunate enough to have throughout my life thus far. 

In a world where it is easy to get distracted by superfluous day-to-day situations and stresses, experiencing the fire was an opportunity for me to reflect on what truly matters and to re-frame my priorities.


So my question to you is this:

What would you take if everything you owned was about to go up in flames?

How you answer that tough question may just provide you with the most important answer you’ll ever need.