Looking Ahead

Stream of consciousness ahead. Be careful.

A few days ago a friend posted:

I'd brushed shoulders with death on a few occasions but in my carefree youth, it had almost seemed like an abstract, impossible thing to ever happen to me.

But with each passing decade, I begin to gaze at the time I probably have left and by my forties, of which I consider my halfway point at best, I'd come to know just one thing: 

"You will only get older."

Life coexists with death. There is no question about it. I know I'm still young, but with passing year, each passing day, each word I type, I am one step farther from my birth. Just like loose change, these steps add up, and I'm already nearing my next birthday...again.

It's too fast.

My psychology textbook states these will be my best years. When [literal] vision is clearest. When my [literal] hearing is the sharpest. When my movements are the quickest. Abstract logic should be solved like this, snap snap snap.

Tick tick tick.

Already a minute passed.

Never to be regained again.

85 years is the average lifespan of an American citizen.

That means I have only a bit more than 67 years left.

67 years seem like a long time. Until you realize that you only take out the trash a bit less than 3500 times.

Then suddenly it seems too short.

Mind you, this is if I am fortunate to steer clear of accidents and sickness.

I am only left with memories of the past. No refunds, sorry. No exchanges either.

First day of kindergarten. I was an "overflow student" for the first day.

First day of "piano" lessons at the Community Center.

First day stepping into the house our family moved into more than a decade ago.

Decade. There goes one. I'm nearing the second.

And then I dream that one day, when the destination is closer than my origin, I will look back and think.

What did I do that is meaningful.

Did I do anything meaningful.

I want to be able to say: Yes. This is my goal. To do something that makes a change. Grades don't mean anything. I like them to be high, but they're no more than ink on paper, pixels on a screen.

It's the knowledge that counts.

I don't want to lose that.

I don't want to lose the ability to love. To laugh. To care.

Every decision I make is well intentioned, but they are blind, because I cannot see into the future. I will think that I found the solution, but what if it's wrong? That opportunity is gone. Time moves unforgivingly. It's like trying to hold water in your hands. It slips through. A phantom that cannot be caught.

People come and go. Friends are made, then they disappear. Relationships bloom, and sometimes wilt. Nothing stays constant. Nothing can be counted on being constant.

We can't remember beyond our third birthday. Our consciousness can only reach so far. Suddenly, light fills our eyes and we can see. And then eventually you will reach the end of the film roll, when the counter hits 24. Hopefully it won't end prematurely.

Imagine. If a father happened to pass away before his child's fourth birthday, he won't be remembered. All the love and care...gone. That is terrifying.

But then I can still be hopeful. Live each day without regret. Make sure each day counts. Because I want to make it meaningful. I don't want to ever think that I wasted a day. Treasure every smile, every hug.

Every kiss.

I want to live happily. I want to enjoy my life, my work, and my achievements. So the three basic things I need in life, as I read from a newspaper article: sleep well, eat well, and smile.

It seems so simple. But it goes so far.

Celebrate each day.

All day.

Every day.