Fly on the wall

In lieu of real content (and sneakily recycling part of an older blog entry) I am going domestic and present a snippet of some e-mail between Sofia (my significantly better other half) from 13-June-2006.

We always start by asking if the other one is at work.

Sofia: So, are you there yet??

Me: Where?

At the final destination of my life's journey?

Did you know that Ken Thompson died yesterday (or the day before)? He was 82. He was also Canada's richest man.

Sofia: Yes, I heard it on the radio this morning. So, how are you husbandito?

Me: Half my life is over and my wealth is nowhere near $1 Billion. sigh.

Sofia: Well, you still have the other half of your life to make it happen.

Me: > You mean the half of my life when my body and mind start slowing down, falling apart and begin acting as an impediment rather than something I can rely on?

Sofia: > Whether your body acts that well or not it is entirely up to you. If you take good care of your body, you can still rely on it.

Me: Sure, you can eek out a few extra days, but in the end ... there is an end and I am at a point in my life when I see the approach of my journey's end.

Here is something I had written down about 7 months ago:

Sometime over the past 2 or 3 years, I have shed any and all delusions of being immortal.

Intellectually I have known for a long time that some day I shall die. But, it was a far and distant destination beyond my power to observe.

Now I am mortal; a human whose existence inexorably grinds its way to his final breath and heartbeat. I raise my eyes and in the distance I see my journey's end - a barren and desolate land, windswept and cold. A lonely cairn testifying that I am no more. Freed from the burdens of sadness and loneliness, denied the joys of loving and cherishing.

Nevertheless, I expect there are at least another 30 or 40 years left in me, but ... it is still sad to recognize ones mortality.

I have passed from the Summer of my life into the Autumn. I expect it to be a long and glorious Autumn with bright and vibrant colours. A sunny Autumn with leaves burning with burnished brilliance. The next stop is Winter whence the days shall grow shorter and colder until nothing remains but cold and darkness.

"I am forty years old now, and you know forty years is a whole lifetime; you know it is extreme old age. To live longer than forty years is bad manners, is vulgar, immoral. Who does live beyond forty? Answer that, sincerely and honestly I will tell you who do: fools and worthless fellows." – Fyodor Dostoevsky, 'Notes from the Underground'

Sofia: Rich, you can choose to see a glass half full or half empty. It is true that you cannot stop the physical processing of aging but for the rest it is up to you. Although your writing is nice it is so dark and gloomy. Come on Rich, cheer up. We have two small children. All I want is to live for as long as I can and be strong for them. I just wish I had achieved more than what I have at this point of my life, but then again I have been away from professional life for many years. We make choices in life and we have to live by then.

Me: Don't worry, my mental and emotional state are quite good (except for that scare I got last night when I heard Tania and JJ call out for me) [while in that twilight realm of blurred reality which lies somewhere between consciousness and sleep, I experienced the voices of my children crying out to me for help – Richard] - even when I wrote that piece, my mood was good.

It is simply a reflection on the fact that there has been a transition (actually a number of them) in my perception of self. One of those is regarding my own mortality. Up until fairly recently, my mortality was not an issue. I felt I was going to live forever - or, at least, long enough.

Now I do not feel that way. So, the urge to achieve things is greater in me than it has been in the past. I simply cannot afford to wait until a "better time". I need to act now.

The glass is half empty. I have drunk half of it. I don't want to end up like the kids when we go to a restaurant, where they finish their drink before dinner and then wish they had some to go with their meal.

No one is going to pour out a little bit of their life for me.



Image liberated from here.