Welcome back, kindred spirits.
In light of recent events, I’ve been reminded of Seneca’s essay On the Shortness of Life.
We are dying.
Though we could not possibly forget this truth…
How often do we think about it on a daily basis?
How often does this fact drive our decisions?
Less often than we think, and this needs to change.
Last year, I watched a video of 70 people ages 5–75 sharing their biggest regrets.
The main takeaways?
When we’re younger, we regret the things we did.
When we’re older, we regret the things we didn’t do.
With my grandfather’s passing, I’ve been wondering if people ever die contentedly — without regrets, proud of their children and contributions, and at peace with their legacy.
I’ve been thinking…
Was my grandfather proud of the life he led, of his accomplishments and children?
Did he have any regrets?
And, what of my mother?
Has she regretted her choice — moving abroad, away from her family and friends, only seeing them once or twice every few years?
