Congratulations, you’re dead.

Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.

Dear 100 year old self,

According to the World Health Organization, the average life expectancy of a man in the United States is 75.8 years.

By now you are long since dead. The possibility of us making it to the 100 year mark is pretty remote and miraculous for a man living in the United States.

Given the healthcare system in the U.S. and the unhealthy lifestyles that most Americans engage in, it’s amazing that we made it as far as we did. Healthcare in the United States is a basically a tug of war between the system and insurers and citizens are the rope. Sooner or later you had to snap.

The U.S. Government must have been be quite relieved to know that we died before they were forced to pay out all the Social Security benefits that had accrued from working.

It’s OK if you’re dead. I’m sure by this point you’ve accepted it. At one point, we sought lofty goals and expected to live forever.

“Some people die at 25 and aren’t buried until 75.’

Benjamin Franklin

Perhaps old Ben was an existentialist or stoic, and in analyzing his quote, we took it that one should have purpose in life.

I (we) were driven by work, and efforts to build a tower to the sky. The “American dream” of acquiring endless possessions and boundless wealth. With maturing age, comes wisdom. We woke from that dream. All the wealth and money may slow your physical decline, but no amount of money or power can change the end result. One day we realized that, as the saying goes, “At the end of the game, both the king and the pawn go back in the same box.”

Some of those goals no longer held sway. We became more interested in life‘s experiences, connections and living a full life with greater simplicity and clarity.

If your memory recalls, (now that you are 100 years old and deceased) later in the game, Mark Twain whispered in our ear.

“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”

I hope that I will find this to be true. You of course already know the answer but unfortunately have taken it to the grave! So now I close the laptop. This week I’ll leave work on time. Less blogging. I’ll hike more, spent more time with the children, get up early to watch the sun rise. Take an umbrella and have a walk in the rain. Live more mindful of each moment.

You’ve gotta admit, it was a good run, right?