a guide to making peace with wanting everything
The current state of the world in tandem with my crippling, compulsive anxiety is a perfect storm that has caused me to mull over every fear in my mind relating to my inevitable death.
I am terrified of how and when I will die, but I recently realized I am not at all afraid of death itself. It has also become clear to me that my priorities would change greatly if I had an exact figure for how long I will live, but the tricky part is I have no actual way of knowing when I’m going to die. It could be in 80 years, or it could be before I finish typing this. It could be the exact moment that you’re reading this.
The average lifespan for a woman is 77.43 years, implying I have exactly 57.54 years to go—assuming no terrible (though highly possible) tragedy occurs before then. If I have 57.54 years, I know exactly how I’d like to kick them off. The next decade would be solely dedicated to building my career, becoming my own best friend, developing emotional intelligence, learning new skills, and setting up the best possible foundation for my final 47.54.
There are many things I’d like to do after that decade, i.e. “when the time is right”. Some are deeply personal, but they range from traveling to experiencing passionate sex for the first time, and all of them simultaneously give me butterflies and make me feel as though my heart is stopping just by imagining them. I can’t count how many things I deeply crave for my future. Unfortunately, as I mentioned above, there is no guarantee I will get my whole 77.43.
Instead, let’s assume I have one year to live. If you told me that, I would change my entire life immediately. Let’s take the example of passionate sex. I have adamantly remained single for quite some time, and in my ideal scenario I am focusing on myself for a long time—building a strong foundation of self-love and success so that I can be fully prepared to enter a healthy relationship and experience the fruits of my growth in an equal exchange of love and respect. If things unfold how I imagine them to in my little dream world, I’ve got a lot of things to focus on before I get around to the steamy part. But if you told me I’d be dead at age 20?
If you told me I would not even live until the day of my 21st birthday, my approach would be astronomically different. I would attempt to find love in the chaos, trusting the universe to bring me a sudden and fiery romance in the excitement of my final months. I’d be traveling the world, throwing my phone off a cliff, blowing my money on my every whim, skydiving, talking to strangers, and hoping that somewhere in all of it, I’d meet a lover to celebrate my fleeting life with. I wouldn’t evaluate them like I would a romantic partner meant to fit into my 77.43. Instead, I’d base my every decision on the present moment. It is the only scenario in which I would ever listen solely to the feeling I get when I am falling in love, and it would likely result in checking the box for my risqué little dream.
That is, obviously, just one of many deep-rooted desires that I carry.
I have so much to do before I die.
But how?
How do I balance my desires with the need to prioritize according to the amount of time I have left?
Should I be making decisions under the assumption that I will experience my 77.43, or should I live carelessly and impulsively knowing I cannot even guarantee tomorrow?
It makes my head spin. When I brought this all up to my best friend, she responded with an extremely difficult question—does anyone ever die feeling truly satisfied?
Her question stopped my spiral dead in its tracks. I pondered it for a few minutes.
I mean, sure, there could be plenty of people who have died in a state of satisfaction. Maybe they were simply old and did all of the things they wanted to do. Perhaps they died heroically or with assigned meaning that would give their death purpose. What I don’t know is…are they really dying satisfied, or are they just unable to develop a new desire? Have they run out of time to crave new things that they would otherwise yearn for?
It’s only human for us to want more. It’s a tale as old as time—you say you will be happy when that one thing finally happens, and then it does, and in an instant there’s a new thing your life as you know it hinges upon.
Theoretically, yes, it is possible for me to do all of the things I would like to do before I die if I am very, very lucky. However, if I remain alive and well after I meet my dreams, I am sure I will dream of something new.
For example, if I ever travel to Paris, I know I’ll fall in love with every single detail I can’t yet imagine—things I don’t even know exist because my current experience is limited to Midwestern America. There are a thousand details in every dream I have, tucked into corners of the world I can’t fathom from my bedroom in Iowa. But I know that if I ever find them, I’ll want to learn from them. I’ll adore them and be inspired by them. Inspiration historically propagates an entirely new ecosystem of dreams and desires.
What I’ve determined is: the best approach to living life is to focus each moment on reaching that state of propagating inspiration and bliss. You will never be able to accurately quantify how many dreams you can fulfill within the time you have, but you can do your very best to reach for each one as the opportunity strikes and enjoy its outcome deeply, whatever that may be. If you are able to do that, then you will forever be generating hope and desire and joy and prosperity. While there is no neat conclusion to such a lifestyle, I do believe there is satisfaction in finding fulfillment every step of the way.
The clock is always ticking, but the hands that turn time do not need to be grim.
Eat your breakfast and marvel at how it tastes, how it fills you and rejuvenates your body, setting the stage for an incredible day. Let the day offer you whatever it will—joy, misery, boredom, awe—and meet each moment with open arms. Find beauty in even the most unbearable corners of the day, and don’t waste a single second resisting the moments that let you glow.
Allow every waking moment to be something worth living and dying for.
If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at begin to change. -Wayne Dyer
It would be hypocritical of me to continue writing about this topic. I have dreams to chase, and I don’t know how much time there is to enjoy the process of working for them, so it would be unwise of me to spend another second pondering how long I have.
I’m going to go find something to enjoy now. I suggest you do the same, dear reader.
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