It's amazing how pathetically short a lifetime is, and yet how much of it is spent waiting to be lived.
Events that happened 30 years ago come back to me like it was yesterday. Things that I decided to do 20, 30 years ago are still somewhere on my planning horizon. I still kid myself that I will get around to them. Danish preparing for his A levels takes me back to 1984 when I was in the same grade. Wasn't that long ago really.
And I wonder what it would be like 30 years from now.
2044. I will be 75, if I'm still around.
And I think to myself, that's it ? That's what all the planning and worrying is for ? Another 30 years ? If the last 30 are any indication they will go by pretty quickly.
All my deeds, all my success and failures, all the regrets and worries will be meaningless by then. It will simply be too late to worry about them, or at least to do anything about them.
Looking back 30 years, I had ridiculously little idea about what lay in store. Do I have any better ideas about what lies ahead? I'd like to think so, but I know I'm more likely to be wrong than to be right. I'm expecting to be surprised. I expect things to change, for this much I've learned at least. But I'm less worried about it now. For things usually work out.
Some things don't change though, things we are passionate about, affairs of the heart, tend to stay. Music from those days, the kinds of books I liked reading, things I liked to do back then I still tend to like: solving puzzles and reading, and writing. So this thread of continuity will likely survive another 30 years. If it does, it would be a wonderful thing. I'd like to still be reading with delight, coding, and writing in 30 years. And who knows, I might even get around to doing some of the things I've been meaning to do.