I just spent an hour on the bed with a book, and now I am pondering my existence. The book did that to me I guess.
If I am not reading or writing, I am not doing anything. If I am not working on a relationship, I am not doing anything. Relationships are with family, people I live with, and with on-line friends. Also some relationships are with people who are yet to come, my descendants and others who may be interested, my students, my disciples, my followers. They may learn from me or by studying me. I gave some of me in my genes, and I gave some of me in my teaching.
Not doing anything is wasting time, keeping me from what it is that I am supposed to accomplish. Being eighty, with lots of ailments and physical limitations, I have less time to waste.
Before I die, I have something to do. What is it? Am I doing it? Am I doing it well?
Wow, I can’t put this in my journal, it is too egocentric, too egotistical. Yet, it is what I am pondering right now.