63 years ago

I was born 63 years ago in Manhattan. I don’t know if the passing years have brought any great wisdom. In fact I mostly exist in a state where I feel like everyone I encounter is older than me, a notion that I know is false. I am in my sixties and yet still feel incapable in most situations. And yet the passing time still brings me enthusiasm, and that I am most grateful for. I don’t feel cynical about this world, and I believe that most of the people in it want peace, pleasure and connection, even as we contend with fear and panic.

I’m grateful to be alive right now at this point in human evolution that affords me the chance to reflect and experience myself as an individual, even as I believe that human consciousness is an evolutionary dead end, a development that will allow us to fashion our own extinction.

I don’t believe that I will be around to see that, as enticing as the notion of living in “end times” is. I’m not someone  who has a role to play at the climax of the movie. And there are plenty of other people who are better at doing the things I hope to do. It’s been 63 years of often falling short. And yet and yet. I love being here, I love that I get to make art and I love that I get to help other people do the same. I hope I get to keep doing it.

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