Losing my friend changed me. I stopped chasing the big house and paycheck

Luke* was the kind of friend who lived life in hi-res. He always wanted to be a phenomenal river surfer, or doing tricks at the skatepark. He didn’t care about salaries or being at the top of anything, career-wise. He just did what he loved. 

We met when I was a teenager in our home state in the Western United States, and he got me into snowboarding. We knew each other for over 20 years, and during that time, we’d be outdoors together doing something fun. We’d try everything, including powsurfing – a type of sport that involves riding a bindingless board down the slopes, surf-style. 

Luke and I were close, but our attitudes to work were very different. While I was busy chasing the car, the house and the paycheck as part of my fancy career in software, he was just living. He was 10 years older than me, yet he would jump from one job to another. He was an adventurer, an artist and a teacher. But the things I used to value – like climbing the corporate ladder or becoming a VP – simply didn’t register with him.

In February, I got a text from another friend: “Did you hear the news?” He said Luke was killed in an avalanche the day before. It was a complete shock. At the same time, it almost made sense because Luke had such a passion for life. If anyone was going to go out in an extreme way, it would be him.

Losing Luke left a void of this fun-loving spirit in my life. He really knew how to live, and his sudden death caused me to look within. Approaching 40, I started questioning what brought me happiness, what enriched my life and my long-term relationships – and whether I was happy with myself physically. Some might call it a midlife crisis, but it felt more like a deep existential audit. Everything was called into question.

Losing Luke left a void of this fun-loving spirit in my life

As I sat at a desk eight hours a day, I asked whether it was rewarding or if I was just going through the motions. Do I really enjoy talking about revenue metrics and KPIs? Does anyone? 

I realised that I’d been so focused on my career and hitting the 401(k), I had forgotten how to live. Things like travel, cultural enrichment, shared experiences: they’d somehow vanished in the daily grind.

That’s how I found myself traveling with Flash Pack. I searched online for active tours with people closer to my own age (and with similar fitness levels to my own), who might be going through something like me. I also wanted cultural immersion with a local guide. Flash Pack checked all the boxes.

My first group trip to Belize was everything I was looking for. It was like a cultural melting pot of solo travelers with different personalities and backgrounds. I met people my own age – all going through their own things – and we really came together. We created this amazing social community for a week. 

I’d been so focused on my career, I’d forgotten how to live

At first, I was a little guarded about opening up about my friend’s death. I wondered if there would be a moment when someone asked, “What is your reason why?” But towards the end of the trip, we had become close, and it felt natural to listen to one another’s stories. Everyone had been through something, and – for many of us – it became a cathartic experience to share.

I also learnt a lot from my travel companions. Belize was a fairly laid-back adventure, with plenty of socializing at night. I noticed that some people in our group were amazing dancers. I never thought of myself as wanting to pursue dance before, but I loved the flow of it. When I came back, I started to find a rhythm and learn. I wanted to be the guy who can dance.

At another point, when we were snorkeling together, I was blown away by the amazing underwater maneuvers of a few of the swimmers. Again, I was inspired – I started to think, “What’s actually important to me?” I wanted to taste different foods, travel, and do cool tricks in the sea.

It’s funny because, for the most part, I probably won’t see these people again. Yet, we built these magical shared experiences together. They briefly passed through my life and left an imprint. At the farewell dinner in Belize, I told them, “You were the perfect people at the perfect time passing through my life.”

The people were perfect. We created this amazing social community

After returning home, my “call of the wild” as I describe it – my desire to seek out personal enrichment – only became stronger. I soon booked onto an eight-day Flash Pack adventure to Jordan. Again, I met so many people who inspired me. 

One of the best moments came when our group watched the sunset together in the spectacular Wadi Rum desert. Amid sand-dunes and flaming mountains, we admired an incredible sunset, sipping cups of Jordanian tea. We also made a campfire with makeshift s’mores. It was just beautiful. After Luke died, I asked myself when I had last taken the time to admire a sunrise or sunset. I couldn’t even remember – it had been that long.

Similarly, when I was horseback riding amid Mayan ruins of Belize, I felt a different kind of energy. It was a stark contrast to my routine back home: racing through a month to quarter-end, making it to the next investor presentation. It was an energy I wanted to chase.

In both Belize and Jordan, our guides were phenomenal. Fadi, our Jordanian Pack Leader, was a 15 out of 10. He was able to take our experience to a whole new level using a vast expanse of local knowledge and connections. 

Now, I have different aspirations and a fresh zest for life

We’d never have been able to reach the same kind of cultural immersion or authenticity without Fadi with us. For example, he introduced us to a Bedouin chief and gave us a really detailed insight of Arabian history during World War One. He raised the bar in every way.

When I lost my friend Luke, I lost a piece of myself. But I also gained a whole new perspective. I used to think I would climb the corporate ladder, get the big job title, and that would be my life. I was living through screens and chasing lifestyle inflation. But the events of the past year have changed everything. Maybe the huge house was never going to make me happy. Maybe Luke was right all along.

Today, I have different aspirations and a fresh zest for life. I want to be in the best hiking shape of my life so I can climb Machu Picchu. I want to be a better runner, to dance and to snorkel; to expand my worldview beyond a couple of dozen people within a 30-mile radius. 

Because, looking back, I realize that my good friend Luke lived 10 lives compared to most people. Now it’s my time to do the same.

Brandon Gurr works in software engineering and lives in the Western United States. He traveled with Flash Pack to Belize and Jordan.

Images courtesy of Brandon Gurr

* The name of Brandon’s friend has been changed in this story, to protect the privacy of his family.