I am now 55 years old. Like a lot of people in middle age my late-night thoughts bend to contemplations about how short my remaining time is. Even with increasing longevity there is not enough time to do all that I want. Nowhere close. My friend Stewart Brand, who is now 69, has been arranging his life in blocks of 5 years. Five years is what he says any project worth doing will take. From moment of inception to the last good-riddance, a book, a campaign, a new job, a start-up will take 5 years to play through. So, he asks himself, how many 5 years do I have left? He can count them on one hand even if he is lucky. So this clarifies his choices. If he has less than 5 big things he can do, what will they be?
Kelly then goes on to say he decided to "take the idea of number days seriously" and so he created a countdown-to-death clock, which would be a big flashing reminder on his computer.
Good idea.
I have always said that on my last day on earth I will beg God for a little more time, and the booming voice I expect to hear (thanks to all the drugs coursing through my veins) is: "And what have you done with the time I gave you?"
I am still working on that answer.
For today, however, here is my clock:
I have 28 years left and my "death date" is Tuesday, October 13, 2037. It will be a Tuesday. My burial instructions are here.
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1 comment:
Glad you're back Patrick! Missed your wisdom last week! BBinNC:)
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