Spring has arrived! Well some days not so much. Perhaps it’s been this wintry time that has dragged out longer this year; that it’s taken me a while to get to this primavera musing about a promise of longevity. It’s been a cold wind at my neck; this nagging question, if we are going to live longer, what traces will we leave once we’re gone?
Is our trace as a foot note, like a 140 character tweet lost in millions of mobile mumblings; or are we leaving traceable footprints by way of creating and collaborating on things that matter to the world around us?
Is our life not really a continuum of footprints on a path of possibilities, of chance and choice, with happenstance connections to others? If we’re lucky to live in a part of the world where we’re not being tortured or starved, to think all this is a wonderful luxury.
Modern people of a certain professional profile talk of footprints, making the most out of their “third age”, “encore career”, last kick at that illusive cat; while there is always one who has no clue or care beyond packing it in, “yup, I’m retired”. So who’s right either way? Even framing later life as an encore makes it sound like we’re footnoting.
What of those footprints we might yet leave? Can we make a promise of longevity more curious as in an unexpected course? In that sense maybe kind of like it was for Leonardo da Vinci?