Introducing the Surprise Box: A New Way to Add Joy, Insight, and Wonder to Your Life
You Never Know What You Might Find Inside
Introducing the Surprise Box
When I was in second grade, my teacher, Miss Pauli, had something magical in her classroom—a surprise box. She understood the power of unexpected delight. If you did well (I honestly can’t remember the exact criteria, though I seemed to qualify fairly often), you got to walk up to her desk and discover the wonderful treasures that lay inside that mysterious box.
You never knew what you’d find. But Miss Pauli had the coolest things tucked away in there, and the anticipation of not knowing what treasure awaited made each trip to the surprise box feel like Christmas morning. It was often hard to pick one thing from the myriad delightful choices. I loved everything about it—the element of surprise, the sense that something wonderful was waiting to be discovered, and the thrill of having earned the reward.
That memory has stayed with me all these years, and as I celebrate my birthday this week, I’ve been thinking about surprises. The kind of surprises that catch you off guard in the best possible way: the books, ideas, tools, or insights that show up exactly when you need them, often from the most unexpected places.
So I’m starting something new here: my own Surprise Box. A monthly-ish post where I share something that I've discovered that surprised me, delighted me, or changed how I think about things. You never know what you’ll find—it might be a book, a practice, a perspective, or something else entirely. The only guarantee is that it will be something that I think is special enough to share with you.
This Month's Surprise: "Being Mortal" by Atul Gawande
For this inaugural Surprise Box, I’m sharing something that might seem like an odd choice for birthday week—a book about mortality. But “Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End” is actually the perfect birthday gift to give and receive, because it’s not really about dying. It’s about living. And it’s about how to live fully and meaningfully, especially when life gets complicated.
I found this book at a time when I desperately needed it. My Mom’s health was starting to decline, and I was struggling with how to talk with her about difficult topics—things like palliative care and, eventually, hospice. I needed a way to approach these conversations in a way that wasn’t saying, “You're dying,” but rather, “Let’s talk about how you can continue living as well as possible.”
“Our ultimate goal, after all, is not a good death but a good life to the very end.”
― Atul Gawande, Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End
My Mom was smart and independent. She was the rock in our family. The glue that held us all together when everything around us seemed to be falling apart. She had a real “thing” about getting “old,” and vowed it would never happen to her.
So when she started to fail physically, it hit her hard. She knew the time she had left was short, and her natural inclination was to fight it. Using the wisdom I gleaned from this book, we had meaningful conversations not just about death and dying, but about enjoying what’s left and living your best life until the end.
Gawande, a surgeon and writer, surprised me. I expected a clinical, medical perspective on end-of-life care. Instead, I found a deeply human exploration of what it means to live with dignity and purpose at every stage of life.
This book helped me understand and convey to my Mom that end of life shouldn’t be viewed as a loss, but instead as a natural, noble stage of life with its own opportunities for connection and reflection. It wasn’t depressing; it was enlightening. And it gave me the language and framework to have compassionate conversations about complex, emotionally fraught topics with her.
“Death is the enemy. But the enemy has superior forces. Eventually, it wins. And in a war that you cannot win, you don’t want a general who fights to the point of total annihilation. You don’t want Custer. You want Robert E. Lee, someone who knows how to fight for territory that can be won and how to surrender it when it can’t, someone who understands that the damage is greatest if all you do is battle to the bitter end.”
― Atul Gawande, Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End
While I chose this book to better navigate difficult end-of-life issues with my Mom, what surprised me was how engaging and readable it was. I often approach books like this for the information alone, expecting them to feel like homework. But Gawande is a masterful storyteller, weaving together personal stories, patient experiences, and medical insights in a way that kept me turning pages.
The book’s central message—that medical care should aim to enable well-being rather than just extend life—fits perfectly with what we talk about here: adding life to our years, not just years to our life. It’s a perspective that has applications far beyond end-of-life care, influencing how we think about aging, health decisions, and what constitutes a life well-lived.
A Surprise Worth Sharing
I’m sharing “Being Mortal” as my first Surprise Box selection because I believe it’s the kind of book that finds people when they need it most. Maybe you’re facing health challenges yourself or with a loved one. Maybe you’re thinking about your own aging and what you want that to look like. Or maybe you're simply curious about how to approach life’s biggest questions with more wisdom and grace.
We all face mortality: it’s the one universal human experience. Gawande’s book offers insights for navigating these waters with compassion, both for ourselves and the people we love. Maybe it’s the book you didn’t know you needed to read.
And isn’t that what the best surprises do? They show up exactly when we need them, offering exactly what we didn’t know we were looking for.
I ordered the book after reading this post. Thank you! And. Happy Birthday, Daria!! I wish you many more years of happiness, success, and moments of pure joy.
Thank you for sharing something so profound and timely. Gawande’s book truly is a quiet gift.