There are some lines in a song which are a constant reminder of why I created "What if I Become a 102" when I was 38 years old. Come autumn, I'll be 50 and it's even more true now. Here's why.
The line are the following:
"I don't want to wake up when I'm sixty and forget that I've been living, I've been living all this time. Somewhere in our history, we've decided to be busy, we decided to be busy til we die. But I don't want that life." Coffee Sunday NYT by Leah Nobel
Neither do I. So I listen to this song and I refresh my long-term goal yearly.
So, what happened at 38 years of age?
I needed to ask myself a few questions after I'd noticed that most people's endgame with regards to becoming a pensioner was having enough money to live as one, successfully.
What did that mean, though? Becoming a successful pensioner?
Thirty-seven years of what?
The people I've met passed their forties talked about being free to travel.
As much as they'd like.
Second, the freedom to do nothing (what is nothing).