I’m not sure when it started, but the fear of living a wasted life has dogged me for a long time. It has shaped my life’s decisions in a big way and turned me into a restless collector of moments. That is, I measure life in the moments that leave my senses reeling.
Everyone has their own idea of what counts as a wasted life. Mine was expressed perfectly by my favourite bumbling chicken in Chicken Run, Babs. Following a near-death experience involving the farmer’s axe-wielding wife, she faints and wakes up moments later, saying in her lilting Yorkshire accent: “All me life flashed before me eyes. [Disappointed pause]. It was really borin’.” The quintessential life that was ‘lived’, but not really.
As a Christian, I believe God not only created the universe we live in, but He also made it for us to enjoy. God, the author of the key of E flat, New York cheesecake and the aurora borealis, is a master artist at heart. He can use even the grief and pain in our own lives and the lives of those we care about for something good.
With all the world out there for us to test and to taste, there’s no reason why our senses shouldn’t be taken captive of, over and over again, by La Dolce Vita. When the wisdom of the ages tells us that life is actually a hurtling freight train stopping for no one, perfect sense dictates that we need to live hard, and live now.
This blog is a record of the sights, sounds and experiences I hope will flash before my eyes should I ever have a close brush with death. And if I awake filled with awe at both where I have been and where I am headed, I would not have lived a wasted life.