The afternoon sun started to sink behind the trees and the wind rustled the coloring leaves. I took in the turn of seasons and thought how perfect it would be to go into the woods today. Instead I swiveled left to right and right to left in a faux leather chair as my fingers pressed print marks on to the polished glass covering the laminate conference table. I waited for a financial planner who would assess my capacity to live without a real job – one of those employment situations with insurance and w-2’s. He joined me dressed in the obligatory consultant attire of grey suite, white dress shirt, and blue tie and after pleasantries began the questioning. He did not have a drill Sargent or interrogating lawyer approach, but rather a quiet and unassuming demeanor. The inquiries seemed reasonable, almost rote: What was my monthly income to expense ratio? Did I have any foreseeable changes in my near future, like getting married, inheriting a big estate, or a move to a foreign land? His questions were met with an easy response. Then he asked: How many more cars will you buy in your life time?
My eyes widened as my brain slammed on the breaks. How many more cars would I buy? I felt a swift slap of reality: life is finite and so is your car-buying future. The question also drove home the reality that my finite life continues to shorten. Continue reading