At some point, everything will have a last time.
There’s a stoic meditation where you imagine that this is that last time.
From the little things, the last time you played a cassette tape, to the big things, the last time you say “I love you” to an elderly family member, there’s a last time.
The realisation that in our time here on Earth is finite can depress us, or it can heighten our awareness and appreciation.
And that can make everything special.
One of the greatest lies we tell ourselves is that we’re falling behind. That someone else is ahead.
As a young man I associated strength with force; louder voices, sharper opinions, firm lines in the sand.
There’s a strange kind of pride we’ve developed in being exhausted. But even lions, the king of the jungle, rest.
I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't have ambition.
We sometimes believe strength means self-sufficiency — that being independent means being isolated.
We often try to outrun the storm, emotionally, physically, spiritually.
We’re entering an age where machines do our thinking before we’ve even had a chance to try.
In church the other day, the pastor gave a sermon that really stuck with me. He talked about two people.