I’m not old. Sixty five. I look younger, but how much more time do I have? Eighteen years from now I will be the age my father died. Twenty-nine years from now I will be the age my mother died. I still have some time.

Right?

I notice, however, that I think about “the end” a lot more. I think about what I should do.

For example, I’ve loved computer programming most of my years since 30. Should I learn Python? I love amateur photography. Should I invest in a new camera? I like learning about the universe. When is enough enough? I was a religious leader. Should I go back?

Did I reach the pinnacle somewhere back there and now I have nowhere to go forward, or do I have more to go forward?
Fortunately, probably because of anti-depressants (!) I’m not depressed. I’m positive about the future. But where do I go from here? Forward, or coast? Upward or level out? Should I learn Python, invest in a new camera and learn about the universe? (All stuff I love.)
I guess the answer to those questions is yes, because I love those things. I love my blog. I love Linux. I love programming. I love amateur photography. I do love the mysterious, religious side of life and I do love learning about the universe.

I guess I’m going forward. I answered my own question.