Nothing much.
Put my affairs in order, complete my projects as best I can, prepare for death, and die. I have done my best. I have lived the life I wanted to live. I have been my own man. I have succeeded at what I set out to do when I was 20. In the words of my journal from those days: “to live a philosophical life in a tumultuous uncertain world is my goal.” I pulled it off, and am pulling it off. Favored by Fortuna‘s smile, I gratefully acknowledge the role of luck and the role of others in every success. I did it my way, but I got lucky and my way was partially paved by others.
How much time do I have left? Maybe 15 years, maybe 15 hours. The clock is running and the format is sudden death. When the flag falls it falls for the last time. You can’t file for an extension or take an incomplete. I keep in mind an old aphorism of mine:
How should we look at things? As if for the first time — and the last.