A Life is a Terrible Thing to Waste

 

    I once read an article in which people shared the regrets of their dying loved ones. The regrets ranged from simple to big, sadness and anger, and even included some deathbed confessions. That article lingered in my mind long after I had read it. I couldn't stop thinking about what regrets I might have when I die. Inevitably, this turned into me wondering what regrets I'd have if I died today. 

Well, there would be a lot. To be clear, there wouldn't be many regrets for things I have done, but rather for what I haven't done. For instance, I have yet to see the Northern Lights or walk at least some of the El Camino de Santiago. I have yet to see the redwoods in California or sip a bold red wine near the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. I have yet to visit the lands of my Viking ancestors or gaze out over the ruins of the Colleseum. I haven't ridden a bike through an Eastern European countryside or glimpsed cresting whales near an iceberg.

The thought of leaving this world without having experienced these things leaves me feeling a bit wistful and twinged with a bit of panic. I never want to be a passive participant in my life, simply letting it pass by me. No, I want to be an active participant, experiencing all that I can while I can. 

It also got me thinking, again, about how I need to take better care of myself. I only have one life and only one body with which to live it. 

The question becomes, then: Do I sit back and waste myself and my life, or do I take it by the horns and give it hell?

I know what the answer is, and it's not the former.

Life, my friends, is a terrible thing to waste.