Graduating university in the midst of the 2008-2009 financial crisis was rough, the economy was in shambles.

Working a meaningless 9-5 job in the insurance industry for barely above minimum wage was brutal, the end result of a three month job search that landed me a place to earn a few bucks – it last four months, and every day felt like torture.

One dreary, overcast Tuesday morning on my 45-minute commute to my 6×6 cubicle, a reckless move by the car in front of me on the highway turned into a car accident that totaled my only mode of transportation and nearly killed me.

I remember looking in the mirror at my swollen and bruised body a few days later in my full-length bedroom mirror, standing up for the first time since the accident. Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I mentally wrapped my mind around that fact that I was still alive – I had narrowly escaped death’s cold embrace.

The accident wasn’t the end of me, it was a wake up call – a new beginning.

My body recovered in about a month’s time to the point where I could function normally again. Reluctantly, I returned to that same cubicle for a few more agonizingly monotonous weeks before I just couldn’t take it anymore. The $13 an hour pay wasn’t exactly enough motivation to stick around – I quit.

I had next to no money saved, but no real expenses to speak of outside of my cell phone. As a recent grad, I was living back in my hometown, my parents happy to provide a roof over my head while I got my feet under me. Even so, I decided I had to leave.

Time was finite, my life could come to an end at any moment – I knew that now.

I was lucky to have walked away from that crash relatively unscathed. That experience provided me with a new sense of urgency, but I needed to throw myself into a new environment to start anew.

My childhood friend (and future best man in my wedding) was still in university at the time, about 2 hours away, in San Diego. Well, 4 hours it turns out, without a car. I took a bus, then a train, then another bus, and walked the last two miles to his apartment.

He had an extra pillow, I slept on the couch.

A month of frustrating, unsuccessful interviews later and I needed some cash. I landed a night job at the pizza place two blocks away, serving up pizza by the slice to drunk 20-30 year olds between their pub crawls. I “paid” rent by cleaning the apartment during the day and bringing home pizza at night.

During the day, I tried to figure out what to do with my life. I read books at the local library to brainstorm business ideas and researched everything I could online about how to get a job during troubled economic times.

One thing was certain, I knew I had no intention of working in the corporate world, grinding away at a 9-5, slowly crushing my soul.

I made a list:

• Be adventurous
• Build skills
• Travel abroad
• Make life interesting!

I needed to get outta town, outta the country, outta my comfort zone. I wanted to travel, I knew that, but I wasn’t about to be a homeless wanderer abroad. I looked online for teaching jobs in South America and Asia. I got a passport.

I figured I could teach some kids English for a year or two and learn a new language.

• Adventure ✔
• Build (language) skills ✔
• Travel (to a completely unknown place on the other side of the world) ✔
• Potential for an interesting life experience ✔✔✔

I crushed an interview on a Tuesday afternoon over Skype and had booked an international, one-way ticket to Taiwan by Friday. I’d head back to my parents’ house on Saturday to deliver the news.

I was determined to do one thing: To take advantage of my time on Earth to create a life worth living, a story worth telling.

That car accident almost killed me. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.

It was the catalyst for #howigotmine