My father died when he was 55 years old of heart disease.

I am going to be 52 in February.

In an effort to form some motivation to live a better life, I was contemplating that. You know, people always say that Live Like This is the Last Day of Your Life.

Presumably that feeling that life is very short makes you want to do fun and enjoyable things.

I don’t find that to be case.  If I presume that I will die at 55 I am not filled with a deep desire to get my life together.  I don’t feel much at at all.

A mild regret is there that I won’t see how the future unfolds.

A concern that I might out live Lily.  And that would of course only be for a day or two, because the sisters would put her down.  And that bothers me.

But none of that is motivating me to live a fuller richer life.

Of course I’m depressed, so motivation is not on my menu of options.  It’s been greyed out on the menu.

But I keep trying to click on it.  Despite knowing that is not the path that will work for me.  I will move because of habit and systems I use to get things done.  From sheer force of will occasionally.  But it won’t be because I’m motivated by some separate desire or emotion.

I think that doing things from motivation is an iffy way to live.  Motivation, like happiness, is fickle.  It disappears and then you are left without support.  A system, a habit, a structure that pushes you – is a much safer bet.

But those things lack that crystal clear feeling of excitement and passion.  Motivation is what gives a moment a robust experience.  The system is reliable but it rarely feels particularly good doing it.  It just is.  A robot path.

So I keep clicking on that greyed out menu option.  Hoping to find the sparkle of motivation.