Death March

Just this morning, I noticed that about three strands of hair on my forearms are completely gray. Well, they ate actually transparent, lacking any pigment at all. My chest hair is mostly gray as well. Fortunately, no gray hair on my legs. Sideburns are graying, but the vestigial hair on my scalp is still mostly pigmented.

Old age is an ongoing process. My skin, upon close scrutiny, has a crinkly texture. Gone are days of smooth, elastic skin. The gentle creases are slowly evolving into wrinkles. Yeah, I am an old codger.

From a distance, I still look far younger than my 59 years of existence. My physique could easily be mistaken for that of someone thirty years my junior. Working out consistently at the gym has its benefits. However, the eventual muscle sag syndrome and flab build-up are just "around the corner." Working out is a "zero-sum game."

With little in the way of distractions, I can fully concentrate on the human "death march" as it pertains to myself. Not a pleasant thought, to be sure. However, the "curse of consciousness" has afforded me the ability to monitor my mortality. Can I ever come to grips with human finality? Can I ever accept death?

I doubt that anyone could truly accept death. It is too terrifying. We can't even imagine what it's like to not exist. Sure, we came into the world instantaneously. However, our self-awareness was a gradual process. Death, unfortunately, is instantaneous. We simply disappear after a brief tenure. That's the ultimate "zero-sum game."

So, what's the purpose of pondering death? It gives us a great opportunity to reassess our current path. It also enables us to focus in the present, not the past or future. Are we locked in a prison of our own making? Can we escape? Can we find an alternative that makes the present time frame a moment to rejoice?