IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN
If I had my life to live over again, I’d try to make more mistakes next time. I would relax, I would limber up, I would be crazier than I’ve been on this trip. I know very few things I’d take seriously anymore. I would take more chances, I would take more trips, I would scale more mountains, I would swim more rivers, and I would watch more sunsets. I would eat more ice cream and fewer beans.
I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones. You see…I was one of those people who lived prophylactically and sensibly and sanely, hour after hour and day after day. Oh, I’ve had my moments and if I had it to do all over again, I’d have many more of them. In fact, I’d try not to have anything else, just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of my day.
I’ve been one of those people who never went anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat, and a parachute.
If I had it to do all over again, I’d travel lighter, much lighter than I have. I would start barefoot earlier in the Spring, and I’d stay that way later in the Fall. And I would ride more merry-go-rounds, and catch more gold rings, and greet more people, and pick more flowers, and dance more often. If I had it to do all over again.
But you see,
I don’t
From: The Journal of Humanistic Psychology
By an 82-year-old man, dying, and accepting death