Fail, fail, fail, fail, succeed


My wife and I are BFF with another married couple going back 33 years. Recently, after dinner and a few drinks, the discussion turned to our own private Deadpool. I’m pretty sure I was the one who brought it up, it sounds like my idea of a party game. You see, my apparent obsession with death can also be used for amusement, at least until it starts to get real. It was great fun, at least for me.

Unfortunately, on reflection it seemed clear that I would be the first to go, and my male counterpart would be the last. That left the two women – it was decided my wife would be third and his wife would be second after me. I’m not sure about everyone else, but I was somewhat amused and as comfortable as I could be with my spot at number one.

Of course it leaves me at 62 with the realization that the other shoe could drop at any moment. The first shoe dropped when I survived my bout with cancer, although when I became septic after my appendix ruptured at 58, I realized that if I had been somewhere without access to medical care that would have been curtains for me as well. Ok, for the sake of argument let’s pretend I have three shoes.

The whole point of this exercise is this: it’s good to have some awareness of your mortality, if only because it makes you appreciate the moments you have now. It also helps you prioritize what exactly is worth spending your precious time on, and clarifies what is useless bullshit.

If you can figure this out, you will be a lot happier with the time you have left.