When I spent lots of time with very very old intelligent people, I didn’t feel their age until one day. One said about her ‘nothing to look forward to’ in her life and I saw how that feeling resonated right away with the others. That moment sank deep into my heart and made me sad.
I often think back those words after that day. They came out of nowhere… when I halted my step to blankly look at the top of a tree on the walk of my dog, when I woke up in the morning watching my face in the mirror in my bathroom, when I waited for my occasional date to be happening soon… as if those words stuck somewhere inside me and had to show their presence up to my consciousness.
That concept became my worst fear of my aging.
Not the physical weakness or the deformation of my body, not the vulnerability to sickness or pain, not the vicinity to death… but the state that I have nothing to look forward to in living.
However, it already arrived even before I hit old age.
I don’t have anything to look forward to by the forced circumstance… I pretend my calm in the swamp of nothing-to-look-forward-to-ness now…. silently screaming.