In a few days I'll turn 81. It feels like a transposition error, except when I look in the mirror and see more hair growing out of my nose and ears than on my head. Think of the money I save on haircuts!
Having swapped the life of an actuary for the life of an accountant because I couldn't handle the excitement that went with the former, I am a strong believer in statistics, and they tell me that I have another two thousand eight hundred and eighty-three days to go! Actually, it's 7.9 x 365 days = 2,883.5 days, but being the lifelong pessimist that I am, I rounded it down to 2,833 days. (Of course, I could have a sex change to gain those extra 1.5 years but who wants to be that greedy?)
I mean, although it wasn't always cricket, I have had some pretty good innings. Yes, there was some underarm bowling and ball tampering going on and I got caught out a few times but, although I dropped quite a few, I also had some brilliant catches, and it's catches that win matches.
Still, it's a bit of an untidy number, isn't it? Maybe I cut back on coffee and Coke and marshmellows and retsina to round it out to an even 3000.
Medieval philosophers kept a human skull on their desk as a memento mori to remind them that they too would one day die. I think that if we have an awareness of our own mortality it can help us to focus on what really matters. When we begin each day knowing that it is a unique opportunity, that this day has never happened before and will never happen again, then we will be more deliberate in how we spend it.
Skulls are a bit hard to come by and even harder to carry around with us. Why not print out a life expectancy table to carry in your wallet?
Memento mori ! Remember you must die!
