IN 1852, Chief Seattle, a native American leader, penned a letter to US President Millard Fillmore regarding the president's wish to buy land belonging to the chief and his people.

In his letter, Chief Seattle was at pains to highlight the value of the natural resources his land provides his tribe, and wrote: "If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also receives his last sigh."

Chief Seattle was concerned about the future of his land once ownership changed to the white man. Towards the end of his letter he wrote: "Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? … the end of living and the beginning of survival."

It was this last statement more than any other throughout the letter that got me thinking, and I asked the question: How many AFL players are truly living through their experience each season, and how many are surviving the season?

There are so many challenges that arise throughout an AFL season that it's difficult to ever feel as if you have everything under control. Generally, if you're scrambling hard just to keep your head above water, it is difficult not to fall into "survival" mode. So what conditions are conducive to "living" at AFL level?

First, it helps if your team is winning more than losing.

Nothing causes more stress among the playing group, and the club as a whole, than losing matches. It doesn't matter if you're the club secretary, the CEO, coach or a player, come Monday morning, people's faces might as well have the scores imprinted across their forehead, such is the impact the result has on the emotions of club employees.

As well as this, there are the individual challenges that players face each week.

These vary greatly depending on the player and the stage of his career, but all can be equally as taxing.

The most obvious challenge is not being selected. Then, there are injuries — niggles and more serious ones — loss of form or dealing with expectations, plus many other challenges that arise throughout the year.

What is interesting is that an event that is sufficiently stressful to tip one player into "survival" mode, may be managed by another player with relative ease. I wonder if every AFL player has a "survival/living" threshold, or if there are some players who are able to manage their emotions so effectively that they can live and enjoy the entire season no matter what challenges arise.

If I look back at my seven years of AFL footy, the only season in which I felt like I was really "living" was 2006.

That year the Eagles won the premiership, and also won the vast majority of games in the home-and-away season. I had a relatively good run with injuries (although I did miss three games with a hamstring injury). I was confident of being selected each week and of being able to make a meaningful contribution once out on the park.

By no stretch does this mean I haven't enjoyed the other six seasons I've played. What it does mean is that during those six seasons, the times when I've received enjoyment from the game have been negated by periods of disappointment and anxiety. And although these periods were less common than the times of satisfaction, they were enough to push me into survival mode.

Chief Seattle spoke about the fact that his land can only cope with so much stress, so many trees being chopped down, so many animals slaughtered before the people occupying that land are forced to endure their lives rather than appreciate them.

The challenges that stressful events pose are not unique to footballers. Many people in society are forced into "surviving" every day; be it due to highly stressful jobs, balancing work and family commitments, illness, and so on. Perhaps, as a footballer, there is something to be learned from these people.

Despite having serious challenges, some are able to enjoy each and every day they live. I remember seeing an interview in 2002, about Australia's oldest Anzac, Jack Lockett, who at that time was celebrating his 111th birthday. The reporter said to him: "Jack, you're 111 years old today, how long do you want to live?" To this Jack replied: "Until I die." I'm sure Chief Seattle would agree.