So, perhaps a grander perspective is to reflect on your life now— thirty years in the future.

What matters then?

What actually happened?

What actually hallmarks a real life?

I feel like the same refrain keeps getting banged out by the piano player. A refrain that opens you up to be seen. When discussed more largely… what risks you took, your willingness to be real, your willingness to show up, your truer conversations, your honesty.

I agree that time is the most precious resource we had.

Honestly, I did not understand this until I watched things change in an instant. Unexpected deaths and even the disappearance of Notre Dame Cathedral.

I suppose the sooner I can go ahead, the better. Perhaps my grief has also unveiled a greater creative self in me. In greater contact with the muse and this can be something the 65 year old me can reflect on later with appreciation and kindness.

When I think back on myself at 19, I remember my moments of vulnerability. I remember taking risks, I remember the beloved affection of friends. I remember hearbreak. I remember being stirred and motivated. I remember not wanting to go along with the group. I remember the nature of personal exposure. I remember the sense of intimacy. I remember grappling with human error or painful incompetence on a big planet. I remember being seen. Perhaps that is what will be happening as I reflect on 35, too?