Тонкое искусство пофигизма
Chapter 9
ThenIsitupstraightandlookdownthecliffagain.Fearshootsbackupthroughmyspine,electrifyingmylimbsandlaser-focusingmymindontheexactcoordinatesofeveryinchofmybody.Thefearisstiflingattimes.Buteachtimeitstiflesme,Iemptymythoughts,focusmyattentiononthebottomofthecliffbelowme,forcemyselftogazeatmypotentialdoom,andthentosimplyacknowledgeitsexistence.
Iwasnowsittingontheedgeoftheworld,atthesouthern-mosttipofhope,thegatewaytotheeast.Thefeelingwasexhilarating.Icanfeeltheadrenalinepumpingthroughmybody.Beingsostill,soconscious,neverfeltsothrilling.Ilistentothewindandwatchtheoceanandlookoutupontheendsoftheearth—andthenIlaughwiththelight,allthatittouchesbeinggood.
Confrontingtherealityofourownmortalityisimportantbecauseitobliteratesallthecrappy,fragile,superficialvaluesinlife.Whilemostpeoplewhittletheirdayschasinganotherbuck,oralittlebitmorefameandattention,oralittlebitmoreassurancethatthey’rerightorloved,deathconfrontsallofuswithafarmorepainfulandimportantquestion:Whatisyourlegacy?
Howwilltheworldbedifferentandbetterwhenyou’regone?Whatmarkwillyouhavemade?Whatinfluencewillyouhavecaused?TheysaythatabutterflyflappingitswingsinAfricacancauseahurricaneinFlorida;well,whathurricaneswillyouleaveinyourwake?
AsBeckerpointedout,thisisarguablytheonlytrulyimportantquestioninourlife.
