july

When I was younger, I have a memory of a moment of total and utter despair: the moment when I realized I wasn't sure I'd have enough time in one life to be able to be friends with, to spend time with, and to change their lives, to love everyone that exists in the world

I don't have this despair anymore

creating and destroying; built flying cars & autonomous vehicles, now building /faust, more here: /july, web: july.rocks

I have this feeling often when I finish a story (a video game, a creative project, or the run of a play).

For me, it’s the awareness that I’ll never know all the stories, the great passions, the ideas and the people—that I will miss far more than I’ll ever get to encounter. 

It is, at once, a deep sadness that my capacity to experience is finite, but it invites hope, a sense of purpose, and, eventually, joy as it becomes a call to move deeper, more intentionally into the embrace of the ephemeral and, so, make meaning of my one, brief life.

I recommend the poetry of Mary Oliver as a companion and friend-on-the-journey when you need one to navigate this feeling.