I have almost like this superstitious thing that if I were to actually do an elective surgery to look younger, I would immediately get, my cancer would come back, or I would get Parkinson's, or it's almost like, recently I was thinking about, my dad loved that ancient fable, Appointment in Samara.
But there was a kind of corrosive anxiety, I think, about not having more. And you know, in some ways this is a very specific story about one boy who was a fabulist and who died too young. In other ways, I feel as though there are elements of this story that many of us would recognize.
I can't go on. I'll go on. And I really did not know how I could go from I can't go on to I'll go on. And that's when I started thinking about this idea of devoting myself to everyday joys or like cultivating these tiny victories, like just having a different metric for what would make me happy or also how I could stay engaged in life?
Legacy is for everyone but you. This beautiful cemetery, this is for the people who loved those people. It doesn't do them any good. But what of the time they wasted? What of the wrong things they valued? You want to think about how you're spending your time now. Are you living now? Are you appreciating it now?
Our deathbed selves are so attuned to our core values that when we really take the time to envision and relate to who we will be in that moment when the veil between this life and the next gets thin, we act according to what really matters to our soul.
Mortal danger was actually, I think, a core part of the appeal of the sport in those early days. These guys were gladiators. They were risking their life every time they got in a car.
1mo ago
Underscored — save the words that stop you in your tracks.
