Felt horribly sick the other day, in a very weird way. Pounding headache, nausea. Perhaps a migraine? I don't know, but after I dropped the kids off I could barely drive the three miles back to the house. Promptly went back to bed, and stayed there nearly all day.
Being ill invariably leads to thoughts about mortality. I got into a funk of regret. If I die today, what will have been the point of my living? What will be left behind of me aside from the memories I have shared with a handful of people? How I have wasted what little time I've had.
But then my feelings shifted. I thought of all they ways people try to leave something behind of themselves. The people that leave the biggest impacts often leave the biggest messes to clean up, the biggest paths of destruction, the biggest empty mansions, the most harmful ideologies. And all of them are dead, or will soon be. Maybe the best approach is rather to leave as little behind as possible. Love and share yourself while you are alive, but leave the world to your children. Don't leave them, or anyone else, a mess. Or at least make the mess as small and as easy to deal with as you can. No blaze, no glory. A quiet life, lived well, lived thoughtfully. Helping out where you can. That is plenty.
No comments:
Post a Comment