One estimate finds that about 117 billion anatomically modern humans have ever been born; I don’t know how accurate the “117 billion” number really is, but it seems reasonable enough, and about 8 billion people live now; in other words, around 7% of the humans who have ever lived are living now. I’ve had the privilege to be one. At current levels of technology, however, the gift must be given back, sooner or later, willingly or unwillingly, and sadly it seems that I will be made to give it back before my time. I have learned much, experienced much, made many mistakes, enjoyed my triumphs, suffered my defeats, and, most vitally, experienced love.* So many people live who never get that last one, and I have been lucky enough to. The cliche goes: “Don’t be sad because it’s over; be happy that it happened.” That is what I’m trying to do, at some moments more successfully than others. I try to focus on those ways I am so lucky and blessed, but I am often failing. Bess (my wife) and psychedelics taught me to love, and the importance of love, and yet too soon now I must give everything back. Too soon, but, barring that miracle, there is no choice.

What really matters, sustainably, over time?** Other people, and your relationships with other people. That’s it. That’s the non-secret secret. As the end approaches, you’re not going to care about your achievements or brilliance or power or lack thereof; you’re going to care about the people around you, and how you affected them, and how they affected you. That’s what will matter. I’m not saying you shouldn’t learn economics or calculus or programming or landlording, but all of those things, done optimally, will also bring you in touch with other people who are trying to hone and develop their skills in those domains. It’s not just the achievements, though the achievements matter, but the people collected and improved in the course of mastering a domain.

I’ve spent my life trying to learn to develop the skills necessary to connect with other people, which were, shall we say, not strong elements of my parents’ personalities. I’ve heard a cliché that goes something like: “What the rich know, the rest of us pay for learning with our youth.” I can’t find the true wording or source right now. It’s supposed to be about money, manners, and refinement, and so on, but the more generalizable version of it is more like: “The important life skills you lack growing up, you’ll need to learn later, or suffer without them.” So I had to learn how to relate to other people synthetically, on my own, and suffered greatly for it. Even something as seemingly simple as “maintain eye contact” or “search for common ground.” Since the inability to relate to and connect with other people was one of my great deficits, probably I overemphasize it now, like many people who have overcome challenge x and now relentlessly over-apply challenge x to everyone else.

There are a lot of things I wish I’d done differently, but it’s obviously too late now, when there are weeks or months left. But there’s also little to hide, or be ashamed of at the end. I did the things I did and made the friends I made and spent longer having fun in the city than was wise, letting the the time pass instead of focusing on having a family. So many parties, such high rent, so little time: I am a creature shaped by my times. Studied the easy thing instead of the valuable thing in school, too many student loans, foolishly believed the “you’re learning how to learn!” line (Andy Matuschak is 100x better on learning how to learn than most humanities undergrad majors, or things like shudder law school).

That is life, however. Beautiful and cruel. The two are inextricable. I made many mistakes and paid for them. The best thing I did was meet Bess, who is just the right person for me, to the point that people have said things to us like: “You two are really well-suited for each other” (and not meant it as a compliment). The truest mistakes are of the “not been as generous as I should have” or “decided to let those projects go” variety. The things undone and that will now never be done. But I feel lucky, at the end, to have heard from many people who say they love me and mean it, and who I can say that I love and mean it. When I hear that, I know the positives of my life outweigh the negatives.

* Bess edited this and wrote in a comment: “No matter what happens to me, loving and being loved by you has been the crowning experience of my life. I will think about our happy times when my own time comes. You have given me the greatest gift and we are so lucky, even now.”

** That’s essentially another form of the question: “What is the purpose of life?” The answer can’t be imposed from the outside, but I think its true shape takes the same form for most people.