I Wish We Could See Summary Statistics of Our Lives
I wish we could see counts of everything that’s happened so far. Like, 247 Ritz crackers eaten. 60 jars of peanut butter consumed. 143 watched sunrises. 3 near-death experiences. 41 things lost, 12 of them returned. 17 times you proclaimed “this is the happiest I’ve ever been”. 30 times you were convinced life was over for you. 4 times falling in love with the wrong person. 1 time falling in love again, with the same wrong person. 1.5 gallons of tears cried. 10,006 minutes spent out of breath. 4,121 people met, 28 of whom you loved, 27 who loved you back. 6,442 days spent happy. 7 deep regrets. 19 sandwiches that were so good they changed your whole mood.
It would be strange and marvelous and heartbreaking, wouldn’t it? To see it all summed up. It would remind you of the finite nature of our lives that is somehow both terrifying and relieving. And maybe, in the end, after reviewing it all, you’d realize that knowing doesn’t change anything.
Maybe, in the end, it’s the not knowing that makes our life so hauntingly poetic. It’s the not knowing which love was not returned. It’s the not knowing which lost things will never return. It’s the not knowing for sure what the sum is of anything in your life because it’s the not knowing that compels that frustratingly insatiable urge to drag our weary legs out of bed each morning. To walk us into the new day, basket in hand, hungry to collect all of the minutes, moments, and sandwiches still out there for us to devour.
(Inspired by a chapter in the book Sum by David Eagleman)
