You don't have to almost die to be happy at work, but it helps

Singer-songwriter Aysanabee was snowshoeing across a frozen lake in remote northern Ontario over a decade ago, when the ice gave way beneath him, plunging him into frigid waters.

"I could like feel the icy water filling up my snow pants and I knew I couldn't swim with the snowshoes — and all these different things are running through my mind," said Aysanabee, who is Oji-Cree, Sucker Clan of the Sandy Lake First Nation.

"I just thought, 'Wow, this is it, this is it for me and I haven't done anything with my life," he told The Current's Matt Galloway.

Aysanabee is now an award-winning musician, but at the time he was 19 and working for a mining company, playing music in bars in his spare time. It was around -40C on that early January day, and the young man was alone, more than six hours outside Ear Falls, Ont.

But Aysanabee had managed to fall slightly forward as the ice broke, allowing him to sink an axe into the ice shelf. As he struggled to drag himself out, one swing of the axe at a time, he frantically bargained with "whoever was listening … a higher power or something."

"If I get out of this, I promise … I will do this thing, I'll go play music," he remembers pledging.

He eventually managed to pull himself back onto solid ground, where he started a small fire to warm up and dry off. On the long walk back to camp, he had time to reflect on how close he came to death — and what he wanted to do with this second chance. 

"Then, three months later, I bought a one-way ticket to Toronto to go do music," he said. 

At the University of Guelph, Jamie Gruman and his research team recently interviewed 14 people who suffered near-death experiences, examining the impact on their work and careers. Published in the Journal of Management, Spirituality and Religion in April, their research showed that survivors gained new insights, from a greater interest in spirituality to a belief that everyone is born equal, and here for a reason.

"Specifically as a result of those things, the insights and the personal transformations, work often became much less important to people," said Gruman, a professor of organizational behaviour at Guelph University. 

"They thought, 'Well, why am I doing this? Like, what's the point? Is this meaningful? Does it matter?'" he said.

In the years since he fell through the ice, Aysanabee has released two critically acclaimed albums. He's been nominated for the Polaris Music Prize and took home two awards at the 2024 Junos, including Songwriter of the Year.

Looking back at his younger self, he says he always knew he wanted to be a musician, but didn't know "how to do it." He credits what happened with giving him the courage to pursue that dream.

"I think that whole experience definitely made me realize how precious time is," he said.