How do you measure a life?

How do you measure a life?

Is it by published works? The books and the articles eked out in the frantic attempt to define oneself.

The paintings painted trying to discover one's style? The money made trying to secure a future?

Or is it the lessons learned discovering one's own path?

Eight year in and I feel a dreadful urgency to get my dissertation written. I am racing against others who have already completed and others who are yet to complete.

I race against other things as well. I race against history. The rapid and inexorable tide of discovery and technological advancement which renders whatever I am thinking today less relevant tomorrow.

I work to do original research. But will the technologists of tomorrow find my work trivial? Will the almost but not quite thinking machines of tomorrow outclass my thoughts in every way? If I am racing against the future, I know the future is going to win.

So what am I racing against?

Perhaps, I am racing against myself... but maybe...

I am slowly learning that it was never supposed to be a race. The glory of discovery is awarded to those who get there first. But perhaps glory was never what it was about anyways.