Life is a barter of choice and consequences.

Growing old is to be set free, Brother. It is aslow and long-simmering process that extracts from you what you are really made of. But it requires acceptance. You cannot put a flailing chicken in a boiling pot. You must accept the heat and the pain with serenity so that the full flavors of your life may be released.
You may see this as decay, and it is. But it is also much more than that. As the body rots, so does the cage that traps us in our worldly concerns. When my legs became too weak to carry my body, I stopped pacing with worry. When my fingers became twisted, I stopped pointing blame. When I lost my sight, I stopped seeing illusions. It may be dark in the pot that I am simmering in, but I can see more clearly than I have ever seen in my life. I can see you, Brother, and I know who you are.

... I'll always have something that not even time can take away. Pain. ...because when I've forgotten everything else, I'll feel that ache... that tightness in my throat... that heaviness in my chest... and know that I loved a woman once and she loved me back. It's proof that I existed and so did she.

As the body rots, so does the cage that traps us in our wordly concerns. When my legs become too weak to carry my body, I stopped pacing with worry. When my fingers became twisted, I stopped pointing blame. When I lost my sight, I stopped seeing illusions. It may be dark in the pot that I am simmering in, but I can see more clearly than I have ever seen in my life.

If last night proved anything, it's that life is a strong drink served up in an extremely short - and fragile - shot glass.

If we accept time for what it is, how it flows and how we flow with it, I doubt very much that would continue wasting loads of it by constantly checking our watches.