Ten years ago, I told my uncle, “Time goes fast.”
He said, “The older you get, the faster it goes.”
Last year, he almost died. This year, he celebrated the odd anniversary of the-day-he-almost-died.
It’s hard to believe the covid-19 pandemic has been going on for over two years. Time went so fast. I look at what I hoped to do this year on New Year’s Day and… let’s say I haven’t gotten as much done as I hoped. (At least I got some of it done though).
This is a filler blog post I’m writing when all the topics I want about feel too personal to share on the internet, or I’m scared, or that I’m not ready to speak about them, or something. Yet my blog deadline is coming up. So I said ‘to heck, if I feel like my time is running out, then I need to make that my topic.’
The fantastic accomplishments of people who are over a decade younger than me make me wonder what I’m doing with my life. They went so far in less time.
I need to up my game.
I have ten fewer years today than I did when I talked to my uncle about the passage of time.
For all I know, I may die today (no reason to think today will be the day, but a car could hit me or something).
My parents talked for years about putting their affairs in order, planning their estate, stuff like that. Now they’re doing it. My mother said that the pandemic pushed them.
Even if covid-19 never touches them, the mismanagement of the pandemic has wrecked the health care system for the duration of their lives (and maybe my life too). That alone cuts their likely remaining lifespans. Not to mention the societal breakdowns looming over us.
And yet… I’ve lived with this dread of what the future holds for the world since 2009, if not earlier. Yet here I am, with many forms of fortune, not the least my current good health. Maybe dread is an excuse not to chase after my full potential.