Whatever your age, the questions we want to be asking ourselves are: Are we existing, or are we actually living? Are we marking time, or are we making and having experiences that create memories? When we look back, do we view the passage of time as featureless days that we may have misunderstood as being real life? Oftentimes, we hear that what is missing from life is not having enough time, but we do, in fact, have enough time if only we pay attention and listen, both to the world around us and to ourselves. As the ancient philosopher Seneca put it: ” Life is long if you know how to use it.”
Featureless time frightens me—what did I do yesterday, last week, last year? To mark some sort of record, I have started keeping a diary. It feels quite forced at the moment, and I find myself noting facts in the way a biologist would note the characteristics of an observed species (it did this, it slept this much, it ate this and so on). The diary is written in pen, in a Hobonichi Techo, on what feels like bible paper, which seems to give it some gravitas, although it’s not entirely deserved. My ambition is to add images, maybe print them out and glue them in, as images are how I most powerfully remember. This has not yet happened, as I have yet to allocate the time and energy to make it happen. My grand ambition is a five-year diary, in which I can compare year to year what I’m doing on specific days. The idea of a five-year plan, which sounds vaguely Soviet, was initially daunting, but then I said to myself: If I am planning to be alive for five more years, this could be an interesting project.
“Grind” is a word that one often hears from champion athletes. A great deal of their superpower is that they understand how to grind out the work—and know its value over time. Grinding can get a bad rap, but grinding is how AGEIST exists today. Day after day, year after year—for now 10 years—the work improves. Long-term, effortful grinding is part of what makes any worthwhile project. The trick is to make sure we spice our memories with the daily moments and milestones, which create the tapestry of a memorable life. Moments of wonder, inspiring conversations, great failures as well as triumphs, along with feelings of how we regard each of these. It seems that our conception of time expands or contracts based not on what we have done, but on how we remember what we have done. If we can inject powerful emotional or physical experiences that can acutely stimulate our memories, time expands. Paris by bicycle late at night in the depth of a January winter, seeing the sparkle of new snow on the cobblestones, while managing to stay upright, is not easily forgotten. But what about the smell of our morning breakfast? Is that already gone? Living longer and healthier is a wonderful idea; so is making the most of what we have today.
Onward and upward,
David
