Do you ever find yourself in a conversation where something gets said that unintentionally triggers you? So much so that days or even weeks later it’s still there—stuck in your mind like a pesky piece of food between your teeth? Well, a few weeks ago during just such a conversation a good friend said something like, “Well, you’re handling your life so well because you got a late start on success.” It was intended to be a compliment, but it didn’t feel good.

Now in their defense, they’re a radio person and I only came into their field of awareness once I was on the radio … and it truly was intended to be a compliment … so I forgive them for not being conscious of the fact that I’m only on the radio because of some other successes and, damnit, I didn’t start late. I’ve worked my butt off my whole life. In fact I started working long before I should’ve had to, but that’s another story.

I think what bothered me was there is a sense in which what they said was absolutely true. Of course I’ve come to media late, because, there were so many other adventures that came before and I’d never intended to come here at all. What bothered me was I was reminded of a basic truth of being Dean … There’s no way I’m going to fit in everything I want to do and be before I go.

So in that sense I often feel like I’m showing up late to the party. And I think I’ve begun to realize that can become a kind of trauma for me, or at least something I need to regularly deal with.

“Hey, come on Dean, don’t be so pessimistic. There’s plenty of time."

No. I’m sorry but you don’t understand. There’s not plenty of time. Because my adventures are not things I want to just dabble in. I want an entire lifetime for each of them. I want a lifetime to live as a biodynamic farmer. Another lifetime to be a wilderness guide and naturalist. Another to be a marine biologist. Another as a historian and world traveler. Another just to cook. And at least three more lifetimes to do more art.

This may seem childish to you, but for me those longings can pile up and throw me into a funk. Because even if I completely changed course for one of them right now, I’d be late getting to the party. And besides, none of this is because I’m dissatisfied with how this life is going. I love what I do, how I get to do it, and who I’m doing it with. Hell, I’m even well on the way to loving me. But if there’s any single word that comes close to defining me it would be “wonder.” And the downside of too much wonder is that it makes an enemy of time itself. The deepest pain in my life is my mortality. It’s knowing I don’t have enough time.

So what do I do? First, I usually fall into a funk without knowing why. Then, I spill my messy heart and soul out on Tina, which helps more than she’ll ever know. Then, if I find a way to climb out it’s because I remember one thing: All my adventures, all my dreams, all my longings … they’re only aimed at one end—to experience Life in its fullest. And then I remember, that Life is right here, right now, and Life only cares that I live it, right where I am.

So, turns out it doesn’t matter how late you show up to the party. It only matters that you show up. And when I do … when I step away from all the stories and just allow myself to be here, now … I’m back.

Maybe that would make a good epitaph on my tombstone:

Dean Alan Sharp - This world filled him with more wonder than one life could hold. He loved it deeply. He loved us deeply. And even when he showed up late to the party, he showed up, and then was always happy to encourage us to build ourselves a beautiful life.