One day—some day—in the future, this will be my home. I’ll be given the role of a corpse. I’ll be lying still under the ground and I’ll have a tombstone with my name engraved on it.

Until then, I’m quite optimistic that I still have approximately 40 years or so of life left in me. How will I use the remaining years of my life? What would I have done? Who would I have become when I am 84?

Such beautiful words from the song, I Will Spend My Life Loving You:

Baby
Isn’t it crazy
That we are born
Only to die

We are born only to die. I want to die unencumbered. Contented. Happy and fulfilled. Having gone after things that matter. Having asked the right (and then better) questions. Having contributed meaningfully to something or someone other than seeking to serve only me, myself, and I. I want to die untethered.

I have 40 years or so to live and not burn time away by wasting it. I have 40 more years to contribute and give. I still have 40 years to be a better human and a better friend because I know I’m a hermit and I thrive as one, but I understand that getting out of my comfort zone into my discomfort zone is important for growth. I have 40 years to practice. Who am I when I am 84?

Baby steps: In 10 years, I’ll be 54. In another 10, I’ll be 64. If I’m lucky, I’ll be 74. If I’m really, REALLY lucky, I’ll be 84. Who, where, and what will I be every step of the way?

Or, I may not sleep again tonight; I may not wake up tomorrow. How am I living my life today? Memento mori.

Death

My Duolingo: Swedish Level 4

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