19 years to go, statistically.
I’ve got 6938 days to go. You?
Statistically speaking, I’ll die this day in 19 years.
Years ago, I read this article by Kevin Kelly, followed the instructions to create my own countdown clock, and figured out (statistically) when I’d shuffle off this mortal coil: September 15, 2043.
It’s been a delightful Sunday. I had an exhaustingly good workout and then hung out with Marcella and made plans for some future adventures over a glass of delicious rosé in my new fav wine bar. All along, I’ve been dimly aware that my calendar reminds me of this upcoming anniversary. And also, as you can see, to water the orchard.
That’s 6940 days if you’re wondering, 6938 if you’re reading this on Tuesday’s pub day.
But wait …
Peter Attia’s thesis in his book Outlive is that you should expect your last decade to be a struggle—things decline faster than you want, to put it politely.
He’s got a bunch of science to back that up, which means I might have just 9 years of being able to contribute to the world and live life fully.
9 years is 3288 days. 3286 if you’re reading in on Tuesday.
(Key Attia takeaway: train now to be as ready as possible for that last decade.)
What’s important to remember?
I’m typically swept along by all the everyday stuff that’s part of my life. I’m more likely to be grimacing at my to-do list, than I am to be pondering the bigger questions of life.
But I do try to surface regularly to get some perspective beyond what I’m doing this day, and then the next day, and then the next.
At the start of each month, in my journal, I jot down things I want to remember.
At the start of September, I wrote down five things.
Marcella’s the most important thing.
Do a few things really well.
Do things with friends (not just talk about things).
I get to make it fun.
I don’t mind what happens (thank you, Jiddu Krishnamurti).
That’s not a list of values, goals, or big projects. They are—what’s the right word here?—orientations. Foundational truths, hard-won, about what keeps me content and also invites the best of me forward.
Time’s ticking
The Kevin Kelly calculation is wrong, most likely.
It’s been at least ten years since I came up with that date, and I bet if I did it again, I’d get a new date … and there’s a non-zero chance I’d have a few more years up my sleeve beyond 2043.
But I like the frisson. 19 years to go. Or maybe, nine.
Come on, Michael. This is your one and only shot at this thing called life.
Be brave. Make it something that delights and thrills you.
Make it something that makes this world a little better.
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