I’m going to die.
Someday, I don’t know when, like every other living thing, I’m going to die.
I am really uncomfortable with this.
I really would rather not. But if it is going to happen, I’d rather it happens when I’m very old, in my sleep, you know, that kind of thing.
I had a great conversation yesterday with a friend about how living a life filled with meaning is actually less about the big goals we set for ourselves and more about the way we go about achieving those goals.
The big goal is important, if I want to save the whales that is quite different to wanting to make as much money as possible…sure. But the way I approach saving the whales, the quality of the interactions I have with people as I save the whales, the tone of my internal conversations…all of that is what shapes my actual life. It is what people will remember about me just as much, perhaps more, than the whales that I wanted to save.
How am I going with all that?
Am I living each day in a way that reflects the quality of life I want to live?
That is certainly my intention, but I think this is a timely reminder.
With the finite amount of time I have I would like to focus on the quality of the time not just its trajectory.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —