#74 | On life being long

Sometimes it feels like a lot is going on at once. There are too many work things to follow-up with (eugh), friends to see (less eugh), books to read, and Tweets to scroll. It can become overwhelming. It often is.

This week my parents are visiting Kenya, and it’s a joy. It’s funny getting a message like: “darling, I can pick you up from the office” when they’ve been about 3,000 miles from my office for two years. Yet, their trip has nibbled away at the free time I usually have to enjoy the finer things in life, such as doing absolutely nothing. I feel more rushed than I usually do, more pressed for time'; more caught between the boat and the harbor wall — and not comfortably sipping a mojito on either.

When life feels rushed, I try and remind myself that life is long, despite it feeling short. And when it’s long, there’s no need to rush. The other day I spoke to my grandmother about the start of the Second World War (she spent the war, as a six-year-old, in Canada). The Second World War! I mean, that’s ancient history! And the idea that we will eventually look back on our lives — if we’re lucky to live a very long time, which statistically many of us will — to today, with the distance and perspective of how it now feels to look back to the Second World War is nuts. Even Tony Blair now seems a very long time ago, and S Club 7, but both are recent phenomena.

I’m at 4,985m at the top of Mount Kenya right now, so no “my week in books” section, but more next Letter when I’m back and not feeling so rough from the altitude.

Live well and persevere,

Hector