A recurring daydream:

I've always wondered what my perspective will be like when I'm 75 years old. What does old me think of life? Am I content, regretful, fulfilled? But most of all, will I not want to leave this place? Like I still have more to offer, but won't have time to offer it? I mean, I am passionate about a lot of things here, and I don't look forward to leaving it behind. It seems like trying to enjoy a last meal, when you know it's your last meal. And yet I innately know this is wrong. You're not supposed to dig your heels in when thinking of your golden years. That would be telling God that He didn't design things right, that he left that part out of his plan. So I have some duplicity to deal with on this subject. I don't agree with myself.

As I was pondering this today on my road home, a new thought entered into this recurring daydream. It was somewhat sobering and comforting, and so I'm sharing it.

It struck me that 90% of my energy goes to things that will immediately have no meaning when I'm gone. Why do I do that? And I think I'm becoming more and more aware of this as I get older. And of course I'm getting older at much more rapid rate with children on my tail.

Here's the weird thought: if I continue to chase after meaningless things, and I think I'm daft enough to do just that, I'm eventually going to be pretty sick of this place. It takes my efforts, that are usually well intentioned, and spits them back at me, 90% of the time. So maybe I'll be ready then?

In the meantime, I'm going to try and increase my time well spent from 10% to 11%.