The Middle of the Hill
When does one hit the exact middle of one's life?
Half as long as it takes them to die?
When they have learned half the things they are going to know?
When they have seen half the things they will ever see?
And can anyone know this?
More importantly, would anyone want to know this?
To know half of one's life is to know when it is all downhill.
And, unlike biking, in life going downhill isn't more fun.
Can one change the half-way point of one's life?
Can one say one day:
I'm going to start anew, so everything previous no longer matters.
Is there someone keeping score just outside one's field of vision?
Is there a list of ticks that comprise one's life?
Is there any way to erase the marks one doesn't want?
Is there any way to relive the marks one enjoyed again?
No one will ever fully know.
But, dear reader, as you live your life, remember this:
Live every moment as though the next were merely downhill.