The Invincibility of Youth

This week saw the passing of Edmund Hillary. The man who, along with the oft-overlooked sherpa Tenzing Norgay, were the first people to conquer Mount Everest.

I read a short biography on both men (Tenzing died in 1986) and each seemed to have a varied and contented life.

But upon review of each of their times here on Earth, I happened across photos of them in their 20s or 30s smiling merrily into the camera, seemingly without a care in the world. It struck me that they looked of a similar age to myself now and it unsettled me deeply that despite this fact they have now moved on.

That may read as woefully immature but the invincible feeling that youth brings is something to cherish and delight in. However, at some point, sadly, it gets stripped away from you and seemingly it doesn't occur in a gentle, gradual fashion but rather on several stark, remorseless occasions that can only be likened to being hit across the head with a frying pan. Not only will my time come but that 'time' may well be swiftly and relentlessly approaching.

My other 'frying pan moment' of 2008 occurred last week.

I've had the joy of staying with family for the past couple of months. For some people this would be hell on earth but thankfully that is not the case under this roof. Not so long ago contact to my family was with the sporadic email or weekly phone call so to have these bonds strengthened by constant rubbing of shoulders and swapping of chat has been nice.

Well, it was on the train into Edinburgh during this time period that I had another startling thought on the fragility of life. I was half-snoozing, listening away to some music on the i-pod with my father on the other side of the table who was wide-eyed, engrossed in The Herald. From this you should be able to deduce which is the morning person and which isn't.

I don't know why the thought suddenly penetrated through the earphones and into my groggy mind but it hit me that one day, fairly soon, I would pay thousands of pounds or run over hot coals just to have a half of an hour to sit across a table from my Dad. And yet here I was with that same opportunity and clearly not making the best use of it. I of course didn't say any of this on the packed 7:16am to Edinburgh but I at least took my earphones out and discussed the day's news a bit with my wide-awake Dad.

I still don't know why my thoughts had turned this way. Maybe it was my father's earlier, sobering news that his age had now surpassed both of his own parents. Maybe it's as my own age approaches 30 that thoughts become skewed towards life and how precious even small moments are.

I don't even know how to close this blog entry off to be honest. I think I just wanted to mark down some fleeting thoughts and not dodge that frying pan that brings home some simple truths from time to time.

I do always try to spin any moment into a positive so from these bittersweet thoughts on just how transient life is, I offer Mark Twain's best ever line as a fitting escape. A line that I'm sure would resonate with Tenzing or Edmund f they were here today.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.