Every day we rush somewhere, constantly postponing something for later. The “someday but not now” list often includes the people we love the most. But with this approach to life, “someday” may never come.
As you know, the average life expectancy of an ordinary person is 90 years. To imagine this for myself, and for you, I decided to designate each year of this very life with a rhombus:
Then I decided to imagine every month in the life of a 90 year old:
But I did not stop there and drew every week of the life of this old man:
But what is there to hide, even this scheme was not enough for me, and I portrayed every day of the life of the same person who lived to be 90 years old. When I saw the resulting colossus, I thought: “This is somehow too much, Tim,” and decided not to show it to you. Enough weeks.
Just realize that each dot in the figure above represents one of your typical weeks. Somewhere among them, the current one, when you read this article, is lurking, ordinary and unremarkable.
And all these weeks fit on one sheet of paper, even for someone who managed to live up to his 90th birthday. One sheet of paper equals such a long life. Mind unbelievable!
All these dots, circles and diamonds scared me so much that I decided to move on from them to something else. “What if we focus not on weeks and days, but on the events that happen to a person,” I thought.
We will not go far, I will explain my idea with my own example. Now I’m 34. Let’s say I still have 56 years to live, that is, until my 90th birthday, like the average person at the beginning of the article. By simple calculations, it turns out that in my 90-year life I will only see 60 winters, and not a winter more:
I will be able to swim in the sea about 60 more times, because now I go to the sea no more than once a year, not like before:
Until the end of my life, I will have time to read about 300 more books, if, as now, I read five every year. It sounds kind of sad, but it’s true. And no matter how much I would like to know what they write about in the rest, I most likely will not succeed, or rather, will not have time.
But, in fact, all this is nonsense. I go to the sea about the same number of times, read the same number of books a year, and it is unlikely that anything will change in this part of my life. I didn’t think about these events. And I thought about much more important things that happen to me not so regularly.
Take the time I spend with my parents. Until the age of 18, 90% of the time I was with them. Then I went to college and moved to Boston, now I visit them five times every year. Each of these visits takes about two days. What is the result? And I end up spending 10 days a year with my parents — 3% of the time I was with them until I was 18.
Now my parents are 60 years old, let’s say they live to be 90. If I still spend 10 days a year with them, then I have a total of 300 days to communicate with them. That’s less time than I spent with them in my entire sixth grade.
5 minutes of simple calculations — and here I have facts that are difficult to comprehend. Somehow I don’t feel like I’m at the end of my life, but my time with those closest to me is almost over.
For greater clarity, I drew the time that I already spent with my parents (in the picture below it is marked in red), and the time that I can still spend with them (in the picture below it is marked in gray):
It turns out that when I finished school, 93% of the time that I can spend with my parents ended. Only 5% left. Much less. Same story with my two sisters.
I lived with them in the same house for about 10 years, and now we are separated by a whole mainland, and every year I spend with them well, at most 15 days. Well, at least I’m glad that I still have 15% of the time left to be with my sisters.
Something similar happens with old friends. In high school, I played cards with four friends 5 days a week. In 4 years, I think we met like 700 times.
Now we are scattered across the country, everyone has their own life and their own schedule. Now we all gather under the same roof for 10 days every 10 years. We have already used 93% of our time with them, 7% is left.
What is behind all this mathematics? I personally have three conclusions. Except that soon someone will invent a tool that allows you to live to 700 years. But this is unlikely. So it’s better not to hope. So here it is three conclusions:
1. Try to live close to loved ones. I spend 10 times more time with people who live in the same city as me than with those who live somewhere else.
2. Try to prioritize correctly. More or less time you spend with a person depends on your choice. So, choose for yourself, and do not shift this heavy duty to circumstances.
3. Try to make the most of your time with loved ones. If you, like me, have done some simple calculations and know that your time with a loved one is coming to an end, then do not forget about it when you are around him. Every second together is worth its weight in gold.