An old fairy tale in a modern jacket

Dear Bloggers,

During the my wanderings through my funny mind.

I wanted to put an old fairy tale into a modern form. 

Everyone knows the sad story of the girl with the matches. 

As a young bloke this story made me cry and I realized that not everyone is 

that lucky in this life, some have to live under harsh conditions

This is my version of it. I wish everyone a warm and loving Christmas time.

It was a frigid cold night outside on the streets of downtown Groningen City, the coldest night of the year in fact. It was Christmas Eve and all along the littered and paved road were buildings with warm glows coming from the windows of the apartment buildings. Everyone was happily celebrating the Christmas spirit with glasses of brandy or a beer and a typical Christmas movie on their televisions. The snow fell down fast and thick, blanketing the sidewalks in a soft but chill powder. The snow ploughs would have quite a job clearing all the walkways and roads in the morning.

A public service bus emblazoned with Groningens famous grey and red dotted pattern managed to find a vacant spot along the side of the busy street and parallel parked, coming to a stop. The back passenger door opened and a man in a dark trench coat and dark hat shoved a young girl onto the unploughed sidewalk. The bloke threw a box at her, revealing quite a large stock of packaged cigarettes. “Now, I don’t wanna see you back on my doorstep until every last pack of smokes has been sold, you got that kid?” the owner of the hat yelled harshly. The girl sighed and shivered as the wind tore through her thin jacket and ragged jeans.

“Yeah, alright! I’ll sell ‘em!” she snapped back, thoroughly irritated with her big brother doing this to her again. He had sent her out in the frigid cold every night this week to sell those disgusting cigarettes his buddies smuggled in from other countries. She had gotten quite ill from her late-night job and even now, her eyes were streaming and her nose was dripping terribly. Her lungs felt about three sizes too small for her body and every now and then, she would be plagued with a wracking cough that left her gasping for air.

Of course, her brother would not take her to the hospital. He didn’t want to waste his precious money that she earned for him on something as trivial and unimportant as medical care. The bus slowly took off again and got out of sight again, leaving the sick young girl of about twelve years by herself on the streets of Groningen City.

She wore no gloves and her sneakers had holes in them that allowed the snow to soak through and freeze her toes. Her jacket was too ragged and thin to wear in March, let alone late December. Pulling the thin fabric tighter around her scarf-less neck, she put her head down and trudged her way through the bitter cold snow, being jostled back and forth by busy Groningers who were in too much of a hurry to notice her.

Finding a rather busy intersection, with bustling traffic all around her, the girl decided to advertise the cigarettes there. Placing the box in front of her on the ground and pulling out a brightly coloured, freshly wrapped package, she cleared her aching throat and shouted out. “Get your cigarettes here! Fresh, smooth cigarettes with a new mint flavour! Only three fifty a pack! A great low price!” she yelled out, displaying the carton as high up as she could to grab people’s attention. A few passing folks bought a package or two, but most just turned their heads and kept walking without a word. She had only sold four packages of cigarettes and needed to sell the entire box full before returning to her brother.

A bout of severe coughing caught the young girl by surprise. Doubled over, she hacked and spluttered until she thought she may vomit right there on the pavement. Luckily, the feeling passed although she was left gasping for breath, hands on her knees at the intersection. Of course, the bustling Groningers walking past paid no attention to her. The suffering of a little girl was no concern of theirs.

Wiping her runny eyes that were now mixed with hot, salty tears, the girl shook her head to shake the snow out of her hair. “Forget this! This is dumb!” she muttered to herself angrily, giving the box of cigarettes a good kick, leaving a sizable dent in the soggy cardboard. Picking up the box and continuing to walk down the street, she had to bite her lip to stop from crying out in pain. She was so cold she couldn’t feel her toes or her fingers and she was aching all over from the beating her brother had given her the day before for coming home with no profit.

“Psst! Hey, kid! You got some smokes there?” the voice of a homeless man wafted out from an alley. The young girl was not afraid of street people. Most of them were usually kind enough to spare an encouraging word or a few extra scraps of food when she made her rounds. She nodded and stepped forward. “Yeah, but I can’t give ‘em to you for free or else my brother will beat me,” she told him apologetically. The homeless man waved a hand as if to brush off her words.

“Ah, that’s okay kid. I got some matches though. Care to trade a pack of smokes for some matches?” he asked, pulling out a small handful. The girl was about to apologize once more and say that her brother would hit her for trading any of the cigarettes when a thought struck her. The matches would provide some kind of warmth for her numb fingers. Unable to resist, the girl eagerly nodded and traded the homeless man for the matches. “Thanks, kid. You’re alright,” the man complimented her, walking away with his new treasure.

Taking the man’s place in the dark alley, the girl struck one of the matches against the rough brick of the building beside her. Thankfully, the match wasn’t wet and a small fire glowed brightly in front of her eyes. Looking up, the young girl witnessed the most amazing sight. Before her lay her old living room from when her mother had been alive, decorated lavishly for the holidays. A gleaming pine tree covered in twinkling lights and tinsel shone magnificently and presents were laid underneath, covered in festive wrapping paper as a roaring fire spread its warmth throughout the room. As the girl reached out to touch her surroundings, the flame of the match flickered and died out; leaving her once again in one of Groningen City’s many dark and frighteningly cold alleys.

With a cry of fear she desperately struck another match. This time, she was in her old dining room, also decorated for Christmas and the table groaning under the weight of all the delicious food upon it. Roasted turkey with cranberry sauce and gravy, mashed potatoes, wine and eggnog all freshly made by her mother. The scent made the girl’s mouth water, but again the vision did not last and with the death of the match’s flame, came reality once more.

Just one more… the girl thought to herself hopefully, again striking a third match. Rather than seeing visions of her old home with food and decorations made by her deceased mother, she saw her mother before her. She was alive and well, looking healthy and jubilant. She smiled warmly at her daughter, holding her arms out to embrace her. Sobbing with joy, the girl frantically lit the rest of the matches she had, not wanting the image of her mother to fade away like the others had. “Mom! Mom, take me with you! Don’t leave me again, mom!” she wept.

“Come. I’m taking you with me, where you will never be sad or cold or hungry again. We will be together forever,” her mother’s sweet, gentle voice called out calmly to her. Smiling through her tears, the girl ran into her mother’s arms and they were floating higher and higher. As they ascended, the young girl could feel all her sadness, loneliness, hunger, and cold fade away, leaving her in a state of bliss as she embraced her mother. She would never feel these things again.

The morning rush hour traffic on the first day after Christmas was brought to a standstill as police tape surrounded a snowy alley. A female officer leaned over the body of a little girl, surrounded by lit matches and a box of cigarettes nearby. She cleared her throat and spoke into the walkie-talkie attached to her breast pocket. “We seem to have a Jane Doe here, approximately ten to thirteen years old; seems like she froze to death last night. We’ll have her at the coroner’s by midday. Over,” she told another officer. The officer sighed and shook her head. “Poor kid. Probably she was just trying to keep herself warm.”

Light a candle in these dark days for those who are no longer with us,

but somewhere up there waiting for us. And when our time has come 

to exchange the earthly to the afterlife. 

Whatever you believe and no matter who you are. 

Just remember Love conquers all. 

The Old Sailor,

Racing Cars and Freight Trucks in my body

Dear Bloggers,

My ups and downs have been a little more up and down of late (read for most of this year, it's still nearly Christmas, right?). Not exactly disastrous, but I've not really managed to ever get things into any kind of groove for more than a week at a time. A bit wearying to say the least. Yes my brain exists best by complete chaos.

Part of me knows the best way to improve things is to go back to basics and do some fasting basal tests and tweak my basal profiles based on actual information rather than the (un)educated guesswork I've been relying on for a while. Another part of me is having enormous difficulty summoning up any enthusiasm, since I know that the holidays are coming and I'm likely to stop going to the gym for a couple of months which will have a knock-on effect in itself.

So I'm spending my time grumbling and hurrumphing instead (my family are so lucky!). The old nagger is coming to town and no it is not Santa, it's Santabetes

 

On the plus side it does give me a chance to jot down this analogy that I've been meaning to for some time. It's something that usually strikes me when my blood glucose levels are a bit errant, and Victoza and food are just not playing nicely.

When it comes to trying to balance the effects of food and Victoza on blood glucose levels (well and everything else.. but specifically food and Victoza), one thing that makes it very tricky is the difference in the speed of action of carbohydrate and Victoza. It's not enough to accurately match the dose of Victoza to the amount of carbohydrate you are eating - you have to try to ensure that the two act more or less together to reduce blood glucose wobbliness (technical term).

Almost all carbohydrate is very much in the Formule1 car class. Fans of glycaemic index tables (GI) might agonise over whether something is high GI, medium GI or low GI, but in my experience the differences equate to something being 'almost instantaneous', 'really very fast indeed' or only 'very fast'. Not a great deal of protection against the ravages of a post-meal spike, either physiologically, or that emotional kick in the guts of seeing your levels rise from a decent pre-meal number well into double figures an hour or so later. From the very first mouthful those big outboards start roaring and the carbs go zipping and zooming about, gleefully spraying glucose in their wake.

Victoza, on the other hand - even the fancy schmancy 'rapid acting' analogues can seem painfully slow to get going. More like one of those behemothic freight trucks or road trains. With a great groaning and clanking, the thrum of the plunger on an insulin pen or pump delivers the dose and then... Nothing. Watch and wait. Is it an illusion? Is it actually moving yet? Nope. Still can't see anything happening.

Vooooom! Swish! The carbs go tearing past again. Running rings around the slumbering giant.

This is particularly the case for me when I am waiting for a correction dose to kick in. I've had to stop myself from checking post-correction blood glucose levels before an hour has elapsed. Any less than that and the chances are my blood glucose levels will be almost unchanged. An hour!
 

Of course... one of the things about a freight truck is that once it is moving, there's not a lot you can do about it. All those stories about them needing however many miles to slow down or turn a corner. And so it can feel with rapid insulins. 

Nothing... nothing... nothing... Ah good, movement! Good... All good, back into range. Right that's enough now thanks... STOP!

But on and on, the dose lumbers forward - an unstoppable force. All-ahead full. The truck has now run straight over those race cars crushing them to matchwood and we could very well be steering directly toward Hypocity.

Corrections can be a tricky course to navigate. My doctor tries to help by offering a suggestion of 'Active insulin' - how much dose is still working away, but there are many variables to factor into that equation. Sadly I find my doctor's attempts to be the vaguest of indications at best, and often wildly inappropriate to the particular circumstances of the moment.

 

Patience is the skill I have to master. I am always trying to remind myself that while the spike in my blood glucose levels may have happened in only 45 minutes or so, the insulin correction will only have stopped after something like 4 or 5 hours. If I get impatient and overcorrect in the meantime I am likely to cause myself another problem (and more wobbles) by overdoing it.

The Old Sailor,

what if you get out of your comfort zone

Dear Bloggers,

You probably all had it once that you were pushed out of your comfort zone. And hopefully it got start thinking about the ones who do that and especially why are they doing that. My reaction is that they try to get rid of their own bad feelings by pushing someone else over. I am one of those people that has been pushed to all the edges of life and yes I learned a lot out of these experiences. You've seen in your life some inspirational quotes that encourage you to get out and do something strange. Something you wouldn't normally do, like for example bungee jumping or parachuting but getting out of your routine just takes so much work. There's actually a lot of science that explains why it's so hard to break out of your comfort zone and why it's good for you when you do it. With a little understanding and a few adjustments, you can break away from your routine and do great things.

It's important to push the boundaries of your comfort zone, and when you do, it's kind of a big deal. But what is the "comfort zone" exactly? Why is it that we tend to get comfortable with the familiar and our routines, but when we're introduced to new and interesting things, the glimmer fades so quickly? Finally, what benefit do we derive from breaking out of our comfort zone, and how do we do it? Answering all those questions is a tall order, but it's not too hard to do. Let me get started.

Simply, your comfort zone is a behavioral space where your activities and behaviors fit a routine and pattern that minimizes stress and risk. Yes it's that simple. It provides a state of mental security. You benefit in obvious ways: regular happiness, low anxiety, and reduced stress.

The idea of the comfort zone goes back to a classic experiment in psychology. Back in 1908, psychologists Robert M. Yerkes and John D. Dodson they explained that a state of relative comfort created a steady level of performance. In order to maximize performance, however, we need a state of relative anxiety, a space where our stress levels are slightly higher than normal. This space is called "Optimal Anxiety," and it's just outside our comfort zone. Too much anxiety and we're too stressed to be productive, and our performance drops off sharply.

The idea of optimal anxiety isn't anything new. Anyone who's ever pushed themselves to get to the next level or accomplish something knows that when you really challenge yourself, you can turn up amazing results. However, pushing too hard can actually cause a negative result, and reinforce the idea that challenging yourself is a bad idea. It's our natural tendency to return to an anxiety neutral, comfortable state. You can understand why it's so hard to kick your brain out of your comfort zone.

Even so, your comfort zone is neither a good or bad thing. It's a natural state that most people trend towards. Leaving it means increased risk and anxiety, which can have positive and negative results (which we'll get to in a moment). We all need that head-space where we're least anxious and stressed so we can process the benefits we get when we leave it. Question is what will you get when you break free and try out new things?

Optimal anxiety is that place where your mental productivity and performance reach their peak. Still, "increased performance" and "enhanced productivity" just sound like "doing more stuff." What do you really get when you're willing to step outside of your comfort zone?

You'll be more productive as comfort kills productivity because without the sense of unease that comes from having deadlines and expectations, we tend to relax and do the minimum required to get by. We lose the drive and ambition to do more and learn new things. We also fall into the so called “work trap” where we feign "being busy" as a way to stay in our comfort zones and avoid doing new things. Pushing your personal boundaries can help you hit your stride sooner, get more done, and find smarter ways to work. Using the brain is not painful.

You'll have an easier time dealing with new and unexpected changes. Let me explain to you that one of the worst things we can do is pretending fear and uncertainty as they don't really exist. By taking risks in a controlled fashion and challenging yourself to things you normally wouldn't do, you can experience some of that uncertainty in a controlled, manageable environment. Learning to live outside your comfort zone when you choose to can prep you for life changes that force you out of it. It sounds so easy but still you are the one that needs to take these steps.

You'll find it easier to push your boundaries in the future. Once you start stepping out of your comfort zone, it gets easier over time. As you step out of your comfort zone, you'll become accustomed to that state of optimal anxiety. "Productive discomfort," as they call it, becomes more normal to you, and you're willing to push further before your performance falls off. You'll see that if you challenge yourself, your comfort zone adjusts so what was difficult and anxiety-inducing becomes easier when you repeat it.

You'll find it easier to brainstorm and harness your creativity. This is a soft benefit, but it's fairly common knowledge (and it's easily reproducible) that seeking new experiences, learning new skills, and opening the door to new ideas inspire us and educate us in a way that little else does. Trying new things can make us reflect on our old ideas and where they clash with our new knowledge, and inspire us to learn more and challenge our tendency to only seek out information we already agree with. Even in the short term, a positively uncomfortable experience can help us brainstorm, see old problems in a new light, and tackle the challenges we face with new energy.
The benefits you get after stepping outside of your comfort zone can linger. There's the overall self-improvement you get through the skills you're learning, the new foods you're trying, the new country you're visiting, and the new job you're interviewing for. There's also the soft mental benefits you get from broadening your horizons.

How to break out of your comfort zone. Outside your comfort zone can be a good place to be, as long as you don't tip the scales too far. It's important to remember there's a difference between the kind of controlled anxiety we're talking about and the very real anxiety that many people struggle with every day. Every one's comfort zone is different, and what may expand your horizons may paralyze someone else.
Here are some ways to break out (and by proxy, expand) your comfort zone without going too far:

Do everyday things differently. Take a different route to work. Try a new restaurant without checking. Whether the change you make is large or small, make a change in the way you do things on a day-to-day basis. Look for the perspective that comes from any change, even if it's negative. Don't be put off if things don't work out the way you planned.

Take your time making decisions. Sometimes slowing down is all it takes to make you uncomfortable, especially if speed and quick thinking are prized in your work or personal life. Slow down, and observe what's going on, take your time to interpret what you see, and then intervene. Sometimes just defending your right to make an educated decision can push you out of your comfort zone. Think first, don't just react.

Trust yourself and make snap decisions. We're contradicting ourselves, but there's a good reason. Just as there are people who thrive on snap decisions, others are more comfortable weighing all of the possible options several times, over and over again. Sometimes making a decision is in order, just to get things moving. Doing so can help you kick start your personal projects and teach you to trust your own judgement. It'll also show you there's fallout to quick decisions as well as slow ones.

Do it in small steps. It takes a lot of courage to break out of your comfort zone. You get the same benefits whether you go in with both feet as you do if you start slow, so don't be afraid to start slow. If you're socially anxious, don't assume you have to muster the courage to ask your crush on a date right away, just say hello to them and see where you can go from there. 
 
There are lots of other ways to stretch your personal boundaries. You could learn a new language or skill and it doesn't have to be expensive or difficult to do. The experiences you have may be mind-blowing or regrettable, but that doesn't matter. The point is that you're doing it, and you're pushing yourself past the mental blocks that tell you to do nothing.

You can't live outside of your comfort zone all the time. You need to come back from time to time to process your experiences. The last thing you want is for the new and interesting to quickly become commonplace and boring. This phenomenon, called hedonistic adaptation, is the natural tendency to be impressed by new things only to have the incredible become ordinary after a short time. It's why we can have access to the greatest repository of human knowledge ever created (the Internet) at our fingertips (on our smart phones) and still get so bored that all we think of is how quickly we can get newer, faster access. In one way it drives us forward, but in another it keeps us from appreciating the subtle and the everyday.

You can fight this by trying new, smaller things. Ordering something new at a restaurant where you get the same thing every visit can be eye-opening the same way visiting a new country can be, and both push you out of your comfortable spaces. Diversify the challenges you embrace so you don't just push your boundaries in the same direction. You still get the challenge, but you broaden your horizons in a different way.

Take it slow, and make stretching your boundaries a habit of its own The point of stepping out of your comfort zone is to embrace new experiences and to get to that state of optimal anxiety in a controlled, managed way, not to stress yourself out. Take time to reflect on your experiences Then do something else interesting and new. Make it a habit if you can. Try something new every week, or every month. Just what suits you. I have committed myself to doing something weird and new every month, just to test my own boundaries.
Similarly, don't limit yourself to big, huge experiences. Maybe meditation pushes you out of your comfort zone just as much as bungee jumping. Try the former if you've already done the latter. The goal isn't to become an adrenaline junkie. You just want to learn what you're really capable of. That's another reason why it's important to return to a comfortable state of mind sometimes and just relax. 

 
Just don't forget to bring back as much as you can carry from those inspired, creative, productive, and slightly uncomfortable moments as it is your luggage in life.


The Old Sailor,

Day Dreaming

Dear Bloggers,

A couple of days ago we had a bit of stormy weather and at these moments my brain is running like a ships main engine. Just running a bit faster in a tempo that can be followed. As the wind is howling around the bus and rain is bashing on the windows, I need to wait for a couple of minutes to start the next round again. 

My thoughts are drifting away again. I am memorizing my time and life at sea. A great time with some happy and some sad moments. Yes, I loved it and now I am getting too old with too many complicated extras being a diabetic and suffering from fibromyalgia a life at sea is nearly impossible. Yes, I have some odd fantasies. Wait, that sounds not right, maybe for some really bad. During stormy weather I day-dream a lot. When I day-dream I am getting carried away. Maybe it’s a normal human being thing. I cannot look inside your brain.

 

Whatever, I could day-dream for a whole day, and I have done that before. The good part is anything is possible in a day-dream. When I used to get really angry during my time just after my time at sea. I’d got to my island and cooled down under the palm trees. Yes, I have an island. I also have a ship. But it’s all in my head unfortunately. I turned on the Computer to see “The perfect storm”one of the films I really love to watch. Even though it is not all that realistic.

I day dreamed all the way through it because the film did not catch me this time. The thing I can remember was George Clooney is sailing out with his crew and I was a deck hand. I came around from my day at the day-dream merry go round and thought “what the fuck? This is even more fucked up than my normal day-dream” and went back to whatever else I was thinking about.

Today my fantasies merged with reality and I’ve been searching for small motor ships for sale on the Internet for the last hour. I should be sleeping as it is nearly midnight when I am writing this blog, but never mind. I wish I could buy my family a small motor ship like this.

It has to be the right kind of ship. It has to have the right shape, I found an awesome one with cannons, although I don’t think they are necessary on the Frisian lakes (tempting as it is to track down my wife her ex-boyfriends and enemy’s and fire at them). Burn bastards burn!!!

Problem is, I can’t afford a ship (although there are some smaller ships for sale here in the neighborhood that would cost the same as a car) and I do know how to sail a ship, I do know enough people so they could help me sail the ship, or the people who I do know who could help me to patch up the ship, plus I’d have to sail to get them. So that means no ship, no island with sand and sunshine and I’ll have to stick with driving buses because I currently have no back up plan, unless I suddenly become a famous artist or win a lottery. In which case this is an endless cycle of fantasy but maybe I’d be rich and then I could afford a boat and a new tattoo.

This is all pretty pointless but it’s better than thinking about killing yourself or other negative thoughts, You can call me sick but I am having funny and happy day dreams.

Anyway, a total pointless story, but it indulged my imagination for a bit. Now I’m thinking of my next tattoo…..

The Old Sailor,

Growing older feels like time is catching up with me

Dear Bloggers,

I was sitting down tonight and my thoughts were about life again and how lucky I should consider myself, I have a great family and the girls are growing up faster as I thought. Even though I am enjoying every moment of all the situations that occur and the things they do discuss with us and the things that keep them busy. But also the music they are listening to (some of the songs I never heard before).

Although it is a widely accepted that, "The older you get, the faster time seems to go." But why should aging have this effect? After all, there is the parallel that says, "Time flies when you are having fun." But as we age, time flies whether we are having fun or not.

Question is of course, what's going on?
I have recently been trying to understand this question, because for the past several years many of my days have been extremely long, yet the years still seem to be accelerating.

To tackle the problem, I did an Internet search to see what others were saying on the subject. Nearly all the returns had to do with parenting. "Oh, they grow up so fast. The days are long, but the years are short." This is perhaps a partial explanation; however, since the questioning started, I figured out that it occurs just as well to people who have no children, it cannot be the whole answer.

Some other comments had to do with getting religion. "I found God at the age of 30 and every day since I have been waiting to go to His kingdom. I am now in my 80s. Oh, the days have been so long, but the years have been so short." Again perhaps a partial explanation; Hmmm....the same things I hear with non believers as believers, it cannot be the whole answer either.

Many comments were also philosophical. They said simply to accept the facts and live each day to the full. Good advice I think, but again no advance in understanding.
 

I then turned to science. I typed in the search words "psychology of time". This turned up hundreds of articles, most of which were very technical, dealing with brain structure and functions, neurotransmitters and the like. To narrow the search, I typed in both "psychology of time" and "days are long". And got nothing at all!

Finally, I decided to sit down somewhere quietly and analyse the matter myself. This turned about to be a wise decision, because I think I found the solution. It's really quite simple. It all has to do with "anticipation" and "retrospection".

Whatever the nature of our individual lives, we all anticipate things that are important to us. Then after they happen, we look back at them. For example, most school children look forward to the long summer vacation, which always seems to be an eternity away. Finally, it arrives. Then, almost before they blink an eye, it's over and they are back in school again.

Progressing from primary school to secondary school is another excruciating anticipation for a youngster, especially if the move is perceived as being an important step away from childhood into adulthood.

And so it goes on and on. When anticipated, each new significant event seems to be extremely far away. However, after the event, we regularly look back and yell out: "Did it really happen that long ago?"

Our first love, our first heartbreak, driving a car, getting a job, marriage, etc. When we look forward, all these milestones seem impossibly far in the future. However once achieved, how quickly they fade away into the past.

The older we get, the more milestones we have to look back on. So the farther and faster they appear to fade away. So if sometimes the clock may seem to have stopped, the calendar always continues racing ahead.

For me, the high point of my life was joining the army and serving as a soldier for my country was teaching me that life was not always fun. And they thought me to be disciplined. I applied for a peace keeping force post early in my career and was trained for special peace tasks. Processing the application took only about three months -- perhaps the longest three months of my life. It seemed more like three years. I was accepted but not sent abroad as the Dutch government decided differently. 

After a while I realized that I should consider myself lucky as I met guys who came back from these scattered countries – I still help some of them with getting their life on track and help them with a listening ear and lend them a hand when they have to make a new start again. the easiest way of living my life, because I am having so much fun.

I of course have had many other milestones in my life, which are all rapidly hurtling away from me. Even the most recent ones already seem to be covered in dust. I am now 46. I don't feel old, but somehow I just can't get my mind around the fact that many of these things already look like ancient history.

If accumulating milestones is truly the secret of the accelerating years, what do we do about it? Basically nothing; we just have to accept it. However, this is not necessarily a negative. True, the good things are coursing away faster and faster into the past. But so are also the not-so-good things.

Whether positive or negative, nothing in life lasts forever, even if it sometimes feels as if it will. We are certain of this because we know even life itself doesn't last forever. We are all born to die. What happens after that is the subject of considerable controversy. But whatever it is, we are certain it is going to happen, and that it will almost certainly be different from whatever we know today.

Since I am now in my fourth decade (I am 46), for me this inevitability will probably occur sometime within the next 30-40 years, and almost certainly within the next 50 years. This seems like a very long time. However, the years are accelerating, so when it does occur my most probable reaction will be: "What! Already!" On the other hand I have done so many fun things in my life. If I would drop dead tomorrow I would call it bad luck for the rest of my family.

Enjoy every day you've got left, you never know what might happen.

The Old Sailor,