I know I keep talking about the meaning of life on this blog. The preciousness of all of our times here on earth, including my own as I enter my autumnal days.
Today has been more of this, particularly reflective for me as I’ve spent much of it on Sarah’s autumnal allotment, itself changing and gently decaying now, long past the summer’s end as the year’s light declines.
The light this afternoon being that particularly sharp, low in the sky light, that comes on sunny days just before we turn the clocks back.
Almost four years ago I began writing a sequence of blog posts on here about living as if I only had a year to go. My thinking being that one day this day will certainly arrive for all of us, but we’ll rarely know it when that day comes. So I decided to live for a year as if it were my last and write about how I felt as the year happened.
It was a reasonably popular series of posts, even gathering up its own podcast along the way. Then at the end of the year, so three years ago, I summed up what I’d found in a succinct top ten thoughts:
You truly never know the day
You know that stuff about the ‘Present moment?’ It’s all true.
There has been a definite and seemingly permanent slowing down of the rage to succeed.
I don’t have the time to ‘fix things’ – I would rather be happy than right.
I am glad to be older.
I am happy where I am.
My camera and my writing give me great joy.
Most stuff is useless or worse.
Music matters deeply to me still. But not all music.
All you need is love, really.
So there, and most of them I’d still pretty much agree with. Don’t worry though, it’s not my intention here to go tediously through that list, as if there’s something definitive about it, and review how it all feels now. Continue reading “A year to live: Slow reflections”