Tick, tick, tick...

Marcus Aurelius was 51 when he went to Carnuntum, what is now modern day Lower Austria near the village of Petronell-Carnuntum, on the Danube river. He went there to fight the Marcomanni, but it was also where he wrote a portion of his “Meditations”. At the age of 51 he probably wondered how much time he had left. Although at that time, it wasn’t unheard of for people to live beyond their fifties – also given the times, and the state of medicine and nutrition then, many more did not.

As I was reading the third chapter in Meditations, this passage struck a chord with me:

"Throwing away then all things, hold to these only which are few; and besides bear in mind that every man lives only this present time, which is an indivisible point, and that all the rest of his life is either past or it is uncertain. Short then is the time which every man lives, and small the nook of the earth where he lives, and short too the longest posthumous fame, and even this only continued by a succession of poor human beings, who will very soon die, and who know not even themselves, much less him who died long ago."

Chapter 3, Entry 10

Being a decade older now than Marcus Aurelius was when he wrote that, I totally get where he comes from in that passage. The clock is ticking.

The time you have is fleeting – and you won’t be remembered as an individual for long. Two generations – that’s it. If you’re lucky. You live on through your family and maybe, any works that you might create. Even these are fleeting, unless you’re like Marcus and write something that continues to be read millennia after you’ve passed.

I’m also mindful that I’ve reached an age where extended family and even some friends have passed, there is almost a weekly reminder… the clock is ticking.

My grandfather on my mother’s side passed when he was the same age that I am now. I think about that a lot.

I also think that, even if I live to a ripe old age, I wonder, will everything still be together “upstairs”. My great-aunt lived well into her 100s – but she went out just… existing, in a nursing home. My grandfather on my father’s side passed on 93, and still sharp as a sarcastic tack. So – hope there.

I say all that because I am ever presently aware that… the clock is ticking. Not just about when I might actually expire, but how long I will have the cognitive ability to continue to create. It is this “tick, tick, tick” that pushes me on a daily basis to create. Music, working on my books, and working on my silly comics.

Will I write the next Meditations? Something that is read or listened to millennia after I’ve passed? Probably not. But I am going to try to be the most creative that I can be, for as long as I can be. And it might only be remembered for a generation, if at all, but I think the creative process helps give purpose. And if nothing else, it will help stave off the eventual cognitive decline.

I used to say, “When you stop learning, you stop living.” I think that’s still true. Learning is part of the creative process. But I would amend that to say, “When you stop learning and creating, you stop living.”

When you stop those things, you switch to simply… existing. And simply existing is not my thing.

Can you hear it? Tick, tick, tick…