What Matters Least

I suspect I've said most of this before in one place or another, and in one way or another, but I want to join the pieces (and add a few others) into a unified idea. Perhaps the impetus to do so relates to the fact that I have metastatic cancer and think about things differently from the way I did in the past. My perspective has changed.

Whether it's the political situation, the climate, or the disarray in my attic (or anything else for that matter), I've stopped worrying about the situation “in the long run.” “In the long run” is, for me if no one else, what matters least. Until now I've always had the attitude that careful long-term planning was necessary, but I'm no longer sure of that position. And I've carefully considered political and economic conditions – conditions over which I have no control. They're beyond me, so why bother?

There are several different reasons for new attitude, and I'll mention a few of them. The first is that I don't expect to be remembered for very long. I barely recall the grandparents who were alive in my childhood and I certainly didn't know much about my ancestors who preceded them. And there's no reason to think that I'll be long-remembered by my descendants either. In a 15 billion year-old universe, the time of my existence makes no difference. The “long-run” is of no great consequence when thinking in those terms.

In addition, I don't expect to be utilizing the benefits of “the long run” so I might as well take advantage of what's available in the short. I suspect that I've missed many opportunities over the years and I'd prefer not to do so again. There's a well-worn warning not to put things off until tomorrow, and not knowing how many tomorrows there may be I'm reluctant to let stuff slide. Now is the time to “go for it.” Now's the time even if I think it's a waste at this point – even if I think it's too late. In the recent past I may be have been concerned about starting something that I might not finish, or may have thought that buying something that I may not have time to utilize fully, is stealing from my heirs. But I can't let that type of reasoning dominate my desires or my actions. I don't have time for overthinking.

My goal is to do what I can while I can. And the most important thing I can do – even more important than providing for myself – is to help others. Not to get too corny about it, I'd like to be remembered, at least for the short term, and I want the memories to be favorable. Which means, of course, that what I do has to be seen in a favorable light by those who know me but will outlive me – family and friends.

More important, though, is that acts of kindness, hessed according to the Hebrew concept, make me feel good. It's good to know that others are benefiting from what I do, but, additionally, in the time I have left I want to feel good. And this does it – whether by direct actions or by friendly and comfortable interaction.

That's not to say that some long-term planning doesn't play a part in the process – whether through longer range efforts (we were part of a project to collect and distribute linens and clothing to poor immigrants to Israel) and through bequests and by ensuring the fulfillment of commitments. Those kinds of efforts can be very rewarding, and I'll continue to do what I can, but my focus has changed to the more immediate – to what's possible in real time, an emphasis on the here and now.

So my stress is not on what matters least, but what matters most. In part that means the enjoyment of my time, which is best accomplished by doing what I've always done – to pretend that nothing has changed. And that helps me in my wish to provide an example for those around me – to seem brave and accepting, victorious over what may be viewed as scary. Denial does it again. When virtue is subtracted from the picture and the practical reality is that I can't change anything, I don't want anything to change. My heirs will understand. I'll have enjoyed myself and, I hope, given strength to others.

[It just occurred to me that writing this essay more than a year before it will be published represents long-term planning.  So be it.  I'm enjoying myself now.]

January 27, 2017