While briefly glancing at Reddit this morning, I saw that it was the 45th birthday of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. As is often the case on Reddit, the comments are even better than the original post. I particularly enjoyed:
I think Time is my favourite song of all… time. I was younger when I first heard it and it was with this song that kick started coming to terms with my own mortality.
I’m a college student and “no one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun” echoes in my head whenever I’m feeling floored by the usual existential crises. Lyrics like that force me to step up to the plate and stop slacking
I too love the song, “Time,” and wrote before on the despair of the line, “Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way.”
DS enjoys Pink Floyd, and DD even sings along to those background vocals of “Ooooh, aaah” in the most adorable way.
Facing Our Mortality
When my attention is brought to my own mortality, it rarely upsets me. For one thing, there’s greatly longevity in my family. My paternal grandmom lived to be 94 and my maternal grandmom 101. Here’s a video I made based on interviewing her about her life when she was 95. Yes, that woman is 95.
Besides, mortality and aging should only upset us when we haven’t accomplished our goals… well, and I should add, when we’ve failed to even set goals in the first place! I wasn’t upset turning 30, nor was I upset turning 40 last year.
It’s not about worrying about how many years we have ahead in life, but putting more life in our years. (I believe I read that about exercise, but it’s great in any case.) Living deliberately.