Funny how you can be just innocently reading something, your mind behaving for the most part & not going down that road of what you really should kind-of be doing because it needs to get done but you’ve rationalized it really well since it’s still really early and there are SO many more hours in the day to work on what should be done, and then you read something that makes you think about something else, and that something else makes you think about something else entirely.
I was just reading Jenny Lawson’s book “Furiously Happy” (which if you haven’t read yet, you should look into why you enjoy depriving yourself of certain amazingly wonderful things) and she mentioned a list of life goals.
I thought about making my own, just for kicks, and then I did that thing where I took the thought further, and wondered if I ever had. I mean, I’ve make enough month-goals, and week & day goals (which are usually simply known as to-do lists and are pretty damn boring compared to a LIFE goal – I mean, think about it. Day-goal: – “send emails to people”. Life-goal: “Jump out of a plane above an active volcano.” (Not that I ever really want to jump into an active volcano, that was an example – but I DO want to go skydiving. AND learn how to fly a plane…”
Then I began wondering WHY I had never made any lifegoal lists, because it almost sounds like fun.
And then I remembered that 30 years ago I was working at Tower Video in Berkeley, and got a call from some Doctor who could have said “If you have written a list of life goals, it might be easier on you if you just tear that thing up right now.” But instead he said “We’ve gotten your test results back, and they came back positive for HIV antibodies.”
This was back in the years when everyone was still trying to figure out what it was – also known as “The years when everybody was dying”, at least in the less formal circles. I didn’t know much about it then, and chose to completely suppress and internalize what I just heard, and live until I died. The way I figured, I had 1 -2 years at most, and wasn’t going to waste time with dwelling on it. I mean hell, I was barely 19 years old. I had better things to do with the little time I had left.
I recently looked up some statistics, and found that 98% of people infected with HIV died within 18 months.
That’s a LOT.
Somehow however, I wasn’t one of them, and I still can’t really figure it out. I’m pretty sure that I’m not meant to – that it’s just something I carry with me forever to inspire me to do more huge things and say to myself “Maybe THIS is why I lived?” Hell – I’ll never know…
But I do know that for around ten years after I got that news, every few days I wondered when I would finally get sick and die. I’ll tell you one thing – it really fucks with any long-term plans. “Hey! Maybe I’ll learn how to… no, I’ll probably die before it’s done and that time will be wasted.” “Okay, by the time I hit 30 I want to have accomplished…. HA! Who am I trying to fool? I’ll be dead!
It’s really difficult to imagine your future, to prepare for it, to hang onto the dreams of who you want to be when you are absolutely certain that you’ll be nothing but a vague memory I people’s minds – if even that.
But for some strange reason that I’ll never be able to figure out (unless, of course, I do something & die immediately afterwards, saying with my last breath “OH. THAT’S why I lived!”)…
I’m still here. ALIVE – and even though there are days when I just want to hide under the covers in bed all day, and sometimes do – every second of this life counts.
Do something good.