The Undiscovered Country.

I’ve decided to leave the big, contentious post for a while, not because I fear the missiles that might rain in, but because I fear my own nature. I want to be sure that the dawn isn’t a false one. There are few things crueller than a false dawn.

So instead, I just want to say that I’m becoming resolved to my own mortality. I still hate the ageing process with a vengeance, and I suppose that’s largely the reason for accepting mortality. I think The Who had a point when they sang ‘I want to die before I get old.’ I can’t say I necessarily want to die before I get old, but the prospect of avoiding some of the horrible stuff that can accompany old age isn’t entirely unwelcome.

I’ve been feeling for some time now that maybe I’ve done everything of meaning that I need to do this time round. There’s one short story I’ve been holding back on until acceptance of mortality was assured, so maybe now I’ll write it. I’m actually looking forward to that.

Of course, I might be a little premature in all of this. I’m not blind to one obvious fact: It isn’t, as Shakespeare suggested, death that is the ‘undiscovered country,’ but life. Tomorrow is the greatest unknown, and tomorrow might be the start of some big new adventure. There are certainly a few people around the globe who I would not only like to meet before I go, but with whom I would relish spending some meaningful time.

For the time being I’ll carry on doing what I’ve always done: eschew pointless ambition and just go with the flow.