Old age

Imagine: You are old. Your body is frail; you're slow and every movement hurts; you have to think twice before taking any action, but even thinking about them is an effort. If you do something out of an impulse, you feel the consequences, often immediately, and you wish you hadn't done it. Sometimes you can't remember things; sometimes you are told you remember them incorrectly (and you can't tell, however hard you try). When younger people talk about their lives you're not able to follow; you often don't even know their meaning: words you haven't heard, things you haven't known in your day.

But there are compensations. You are relieved from all those desires and passions that pushed you around, captivated your mind and often brought you to do things you regretted later. The craving for all joys imaginable has stopped. There isn't much to be in your future - the only thing still to happen is death; if you live to see the next day, that's an extra, not something to expect. (If you get it, it's fine, if you don't, it doesn't make much difference any more.)

You don't have to wait for high age to have this comfort. (And how could you be certain to reach that age anyway?) What prevents you from taking the same attitude at once? After all, can you really be sure your next day won't be your last? Would it not be good to rid yourself of those desires and passions now? There is no necessity to let only a fading strength force you to adopt a point of view that benefits you. If you think about it, you may find good reason to decide yourself. Take care.
Copyright © 2007-2012 by Leif Frenzel. All rights reserved.