Originally published by Bruce Kasanoff on LinkedIn: Weekend Fiction: The 4 A.M. Call
Author's note: This piece is a work of fiction. It's a three-minute read. I may be stretching the boundaries of LinkedIn, but if you stick with me, I'll make it worth your while.
It's seldom a good sign when you are 2,000 miles from home and the phone rings in the middle of the night. I grabbed for it, my stomach already clenching.
"Hey Bruce, it's Lilly."
Lilly? It takes me a few seconds, but I remember...
Lilly, who started a wine company by walking around San Francisco and inviting restaurant owners to share a glass of her first vintage.
Lilly, who went to Africa to create more sources of clean water... the very same night the thought occurred to her.
Lilly, a friend of a friend, with whom I felt a bond that couldn't be explained.
That Lilly.
"You busy?"
I smiled. "Lilly, it's 4 a.m. here."
"Yeah, I figured you'd have time to talk. Plus, I saw online you were on the road. You know I still read your stuff almost every day. If I have access, of course."
Still half asleep in the dark, I almost blushed. It had been at least ten years since I'd seen Lilly. I would have guessed she'd forgotten me.
"Can you put on some music?"
"Now? On the call?"
"Yeah, I would, but I don't have any."
The thing about Lilly was that she was always making crazy requests, and people would just do them. Earlier in the night, I was listening to The John Butler Trio Live at Red Rocks, so I just started it up again.
"Much better. Nice choice. Hey, Bruce, I gotta tell you something. It's pretty important."
She paused for a long time, then continued.
"You're so very close, Bruce." She paused again.
"Not sure I follow you, Lilly."
"You're a good guy and you're talented, and you have a great heart, and you work hard."
A "but" was on its way, no doubt.
"Imagine, just imagine, what you could accomplish if you were always there. I don't mean for an hour or two at a time. I mean day after day, week after week. How long could you keep it going? Could you spend a month in that state? A year? Maybe two? More? Could you? What would it take?"
Now she was talking in time to the music, tossing out words in spurts.
This wasn't a completely foreign subject to me, although I rarely discussed it at 4 a.m. "You mean to be present, right?"
"Yeah, present. Completely present. 100%. Present. In the zone. It's possible you know. You can do it. I'm not just blowing smoke at you. You could stay there for an incredibly, amazingly long time. You've got a good, long run in you. I've never said this to anyone else, and I just had to tell you. I wish I could have told you..."