Miles Levin Remembered

The blogging community lost a good soul this past Sunday. His name was Miles Levin. He was six days shy of his 19th birthday. He started blogging in 2005 and talked about his battle with a pediatric cancer called alveolar rhabdomyosarcoma, a cancer that strangles the muscle tissues.

A few months ago, recognizing that death was near, he wrote about his life and its meaning:

I can rest assured that even if I succumb to the rogue cells, I will leave behind a legacy of victory. Dying is not what scares me; it’s dying having had no impact. I know a lot of eyes are watching me suffer; and — win or lose — this is my time for impact.

I want to leave you with a blog entry Miles wrote on July 7, 2005, and yes Miles, this is your time for impact:

I went to the driving range the other day and I was thinking…

I was thinking how you start out with a big bucket full of golf balls, and you just start hitting away carelessly. You have dozens of them, each individual ball means nothing so you just hit, hit, hit. One ball gone is practically inconsequential when subtracted from your bottomless bucket. There are no practice swings or technique re-evaluations after a bad shot, because so many more tries remain. Yet eventually you start to have to reach down towards the bottom of the bucket to scavenge for another shot and you realize that tries are running out. Now with just a handful left, each swing becomes more meaningful. The right technique becomes more crucial, so between each shot you take a couple practice swings and a few deep breaths. There is a very strong need to end on a good note, even if every preceeding shot was horrible, getting it right at the end means a lot. You know as you tee up your last ball, “This is my final shot, I want to crush this with perfection; I must make this count.” Limited quantities or limited time brings a new, precious value and significance to anything you do. Live every day shooting as if its your last shot, I know I have to.

I found out today 5 year survival rates are just 20%.

How many golf balls do you and I have left and what will be our impact?

Published or Updated: April 16, 2014
About Rob Berger

Rob founded the Dough Roller in 2007. A litigation attorney in the securities industry, he lives in Northern Virginia with his wife, their two teenagers, and the family mascot, a shih tzu named Sophie.

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