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I Feel The Interminable Crush Of Time
The realization that I’m not getting any younger is starting to weigh on my soul
I’m sitting, watching an animated race with my son. It’s his new favorite YouTube obsession — marble races.
In this course, there was a maze with a circular saw at the bottom. There was no way for the marbles to get out without hitting the saw at the bottom. They would all get destroyed. The “winner” was whoever lasted the longest.
“Well that’s not fair,” my son said, “none of them can survive.”
I looked at him with his big eyes, staring at the screen with annoyance. I answered him in my mind — this my dear is a pretty good metaphor for life.
None of us gets out alive, we are all in a metaphorical race to the finish. Some of us get there faster, some of us slower.
But we all get there. There is no escape.
Some days — more and more often as I age — I feel the crushing weight of this. In those calm moments, it pushes against my chest and constricts my breathing.
No one gets out of this life alive.
Recently my son and I were at a cottage with my parents for a week. It is something we look forward to every year.
