Sometimes I think that my father’s failure to produce a book is one of the reasons why I am so driven. My father had a dream of writing a book about Beethoven. He died at 60 having never even jotted down notes. I’d hoped to find them after he died and assemble the book in his memory.

I found nothing of the sort. It was all in his head.

Perhaps he was afraid, fearing what others would think. He never was able to rise above “staff” position as a college teacher. He never finished his PhD work. He wore fear, insecurity, and a sense of worthlessness like a cloak. He never pushed through it to learn that doing hard work is its own reward. That just trying and failing is better than not trying at all.

Perhaps he was waiting until after he retired to put it together. We are never guaranteed that we will live until retirement. We are never guaranteed we will even live out the rest of the day. My parent’s deaths taught me that. Their early deaths taught me that nothing is ever guaranteed and you’d better start paying attention right now and living life. Not just enduring it, not just living day by day but actually living out your dreams.

I don’t mean dreams of living on a beach in Cancun and having maid service. I mean actually doing the thing that you were put on this Earth to do.

I’m starting to think of my parent’s failure to live life as being like fertilizer or humus. When plants die they are allowed to rot a little bit and then that dead and decaying material is put around newer plants. Those plants gain nourishment from that decay and are able to get stronger.

It doesn’t happen right away. There has to be some time between when the plants died that they are useful to new plants. So I’m seeing that the time between their deaths and the time it is useful to me is relevant and meaningful.

I know my parents would be very proud of me for having become an author. Perhaps my father would even be jealous. Or perhaps he would be inspired. He’d be 81 now. It is possible someone can become an author at that age, but it is harder. People lose energy and drive when they get older. Best to start sooner.

Sure, there is more time when you are older, but less energy. It isn’t easy working a full time job and writing and making art right now, but nobody else is going to do it. I have learned that the more I do that is good, the less junk I fill my day with. I’ve become very mindful of what I read, watch, and do – every hour counts. I’ve started to see that spending time is like spending money – if I use it up, I don’t have any to spend on anything that matters.