Things fall apart

My wife and I got terrible news this weekend that a dear friend of ours has cancer. While she doesn’t yet know whether her case is terminal, it is already clear that the treatment, even under the best circumstances, will dramatically change the quality of her life.

I couldn’t help wondering what I would do under the same circumstances. I don’t think I would be strong enough to endure the treatment. I’ve seen other people fight and ultimately succumb to cancer — and as weak as it sounds, I’d probably jump in front of a train before going through the same thing myself.

But we all die. Our bodies break down, our minds grow dull. My friend’s news was a sharp reminder of the transience of existence and the limited time we have.

Twenty or 30 years from now, will I look back with pride about what I’ve accomplished? How will I define success? Am I taking the best advantage of the time I have now, when I’m still healthy and sharp?

In other words, am I wasting my time? Sometimes, I feel like my last few years have been a series of distractions and missed opportunities. Actually, I’m sure of that. I think I could have made more of my transition out of journalism. I haven’t made the most of my potential. I’ve squandered opportunities for personal growth. And sometimes I fear I still haven’t found my calling. I’m not even sure whether that means changing careers or recreating my life outside of work.

The good news: I’m not dead yet. I don’t have unlimited time, but I do have time. The hard part is figuring out how to make the most of it.