Duncan

I was visiting a friend today when a funny old gent popped in, well groomed, jolly 'ol accent. He rang the doorbell, knocked, whistled, called out for someone at home, then walked right in the door before anyone could get there. Someone was burning brush a little distance from the house, it had reminded him of the way South Africa smells when they burn the fields, and he wanted to share that. He was so excited, said he hadn't smelled that for ten years.

After he left my friend told me his name was Duncan, he's 78, from South Africa, and has terminal cancer. He and his wife had been living in my friend's basement for the past two months since they lost their home. They're moving to England later this week to be near his wife's family when he passes. Duncan's cheerful, says he's lived a full life and is ready to go. He's content. In two minutes I knew he was my hero.

And I've been wondering: what it will take for me to be that content with my life someday? What will I have to accomplished to feel ready for it to end? How do I narrow down my options? My interests are like the buffets my grandparents used to take us to—I like pizza, I like omelettes, I like soft-serve, but I only have one stomach and two pockets...where do I start?

I try to remember that I'm ALWAYS going to miss out on A LOT somethings. I've always hated that, wondering if I chose wrong, if I would have been happier somewhere else doing something else. So many places to see, so many adventures. Oh decisions...the awful truth of life. College made me believe that I can do anything I want, but growing up is making me realize I can't do EVERYTHING I want.

What I'd really regret is a life full of a little bit of everything, but not giving my all to a few good things. Like buffet cooks—seriously, how good of a pastry chef can you be if you have to make mac&cheese, fried chicken, and jello every night? Maybe mediocrity isn't just due to a lack of passion, but allowing myself to be passionate about too much.

I've been blessed with enough already to keep me busy for a long time. I never became a great surfer, still haven't become a musician, never played college basketball; all things I KNEW I wanted at one time. But if any of those things meant traveling a different path with different people and different experiences, then I'm perfectly happy with what I've had. So If every experience comes with an opportunity cost, which other opportunities am I willing to forgo, and which am I not? I just need to embrace those few directions that are most important to me. I think I'm getting a better idea of what they are.

So that hopefully someday when I'm a 78 year old South African man, I'll be ready to go, too.