It's my birthday tomorrow. I will be 55. This is the age that father reached when he died.
So for me there is a poignancy of reaching a milestone. Life has become very precious for me as I acknowledge that my father had less than a year to live when he reached his 55th. How much time do I have? How much time do you have? What would it mean to have less than a year to live?
Of course none of us know and it may only be an hour or a day for many of us but we imagine that we have decades ahead of us.
For much of my youth I imagined that I had time.
No more bullshit for me now only life.
No more worrying about silly things. No more wasting time with people who make me feel bad. No more working for things that mean nothing.
More play. More being with those that I love. More doing dangerous things that do mean something. More being nice to myself. More doing and less thinking. More time with dogs and nature. More drinking better wine. More with my body and less with my mind. More love less bitterness. More love. More love.
