David McElroy

I’ve always thought I had plenty of time.

No matter what happened to me, I had plenty of time to change things. I had plenty of time to try again. Plenty of time to fix my mistakes.

When I became managing editor of a small daily newspaper while I was still just 21 years old, I thought I was way ahead of schedule. I had plenty of time and I was going to live up to my potential. I was going to do great things.

When I started my own newspaper company in my late 20s, I was pleased with myself. But then my company failed by the time I was 30. But I still had plenty of time.

When I became a political consultant a few years later, I thought I was finally on track. Surely this was where I would make my mark. I was going to be someone important.

Politics led to a high income, but nothing of importance. I wasted 20 years. I ended up divorced. I had nothing to show for my life yet. But I still had plenty of time.

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When I die, nobody is going to care what I did with my life.

They’re not going to care about the achievements I was once so proud of. They’re not going to remember the talent that once impressed me so much about myself. Nobody is going to know or care what my IQ was.

The only thing people will remember about me — if they remember anything at all — is how I’ve made them feel. The only way I’m going to matter to others is if I’ve somehow shown genuine love to them or helped them find meaning in their own lives.

I’ve recently realized that I’ve had it all wrong for a long time. I’ve been letting my ego get in the way of being the person I need to be. I understand how that happened — and I’ll tell you about that in a minute — but the bottom line is that I’ve been chasing the wrong things.

I’ve wanted to be a star. I’ve wanted to be important. I craved the feeling of mattering to others, so I’ve unconsciously pursued a kind of success that would matter only to the wounded heart of my hidden inner child.

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For at least a couple of months, I had been trying to catch a feral kitten who I kept seeing behind the dumpster of a restaurant where I often went in late 2022. He was sometimes in the parking lot scrounging for food, but he took off like a shot any time I tried to get close.

Three years ago today, I used a trap to catch this tiny little boy. He joined my household that day and he’s now the senior feline in residence. The scared little boy of Dec. 3, 2022 has become a confident ruler in the three years he’s been with me.

Here’s his story in three minutes. Watch it below or click here to watch it on YouTube.

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