My life cycles cross my mind every once in a while, and I return to the key piece I have written on the subject some six years ago (“The Seven-Year Life Cycle,” October 23, 2008). Very much aware of the fact that the end of the tenth life cycle is only a couple of years ahead of me, I occasionally panic. Yoga is uppermost on my mind, as I foresaw back then, but enlightenment is still a distant dream. “Enlightenment by seventy,” flashes through my mind every now and then. Although I keep scolding myself for such silly thoughts, they persist. The last time I revisited the piece about life cycles was only a few minutes ago, and the wish to reach enlightenment before my seventieth birthday ricocheted through my mind once again. Silly, to be sure. But persistent. What can I do about it, though? My old remedy for silly thoughts came to me in a jiffy. Yes, I can write about it! This will expose my silliness for all time, but it will also help me think through the whole thing as coherently as I possibly can. Enlightenment by seventy, my ass. I would be lucky to reach it before my death, and that is all there is to it. Enough said.

Addendum I (December 4, 2014)

“Enlightenment by seventy,” it just flashed through my mind. I attempted a smile, no matter how awkward, but it failed to materialize. Yes, I am annoyed with myself. And so I went for my laptop and searched for this piece, which I remembered vaguely. It exposes my silliness, all right, but it does not stop me from daydreaming of enlightenment in terms of my seven-year life cycles. Besides, seventy is a round number in the decimal system, which makes it even more attractive. And that annoys me no end, for I have argued all my life that setting any goals by a certain age is pernicious, and especially if the age in question is in round numbers. Screw the decimal system, which has nothing to do with life cycles however defined. To no avail, though. When it comes to inane obsessions, such as reaching enlightenment by the end of the tenth seven-year life cycle, no argument can be of any lasting help, no matter how clever. Apparently, exposing one’s silliness does not help, either. How about letting the obsession rip, instead? “Enlightenment by seventy,” I started singing to myself out of the blue, “enlightenment by seventy!” At long last, I managed a smile.

Addendum II (December 4, 2015)

A year later, I am in the same boat still. Nonetheless, I am much calmer whenever enlightenment by seventy flashes through my mind, which it does often enough. To my relief, I do not get annoyed with myself on account of my silliness any longer. And there are two reasons for my calmness at this stage. To begin with, getting annoyed with myself does not help a single bit. Neither does reporting my silliness, as witnessed by this piece and the first addendum. More important, I am increasingly confident that enlightenment by seventy is actually within my reach. And no kidding. To wit, I am becoming so proficient at stopping myself from thinking whenever I so desire that I am ever more convinced that there is no better characterization of enlightenment than freedom from thought. At will, time stops and the world becomes one. There is no fanfare, but the bliss is real. It is palpable. And all it entails is complete and total absence of thought. Be that as it may, I will give myself a few more months to nail enlightenment down. For the time being, enlightenment by seventy strikes me as a perfectly reasonable project of mine. Fingers crossed.

Addendum III (March 19, 2017)

Only a month after the second addendum was penned, I nailed enlightenment down at long last (“No-Bullshit Enlightenment,” January 18, 2016). Abandoning thought at will and remaining free from it for as long as I wish is what it amounts to, indeed. To my joy, I stumbled across the proverbial door out of this world a few months before my seventieth birthday, too. In spite of the silliness of my goal, which I duly ridiculed in the first addendum, I got there nonetheless. Returning to the original piece, I cannot but feel fortunate for writing it all down. My old remedy for silly thoughts is rather laborious, as witnessed by millions of words in my wake, but it still provides a clear trace of my meanderings. This piece and its addenda thus offer a consolation at the end of the road, as it were. Having read the whole lot several times over, I keep smiling and smiling. To this day, the very notion of enlightenment by seventy strikes me as ridiculous at best. Alas, in a bit less than a month I will be seventy-one! Luckily, the seven-year life cycles will lose their meaning as years go by (“The Seven-Year Life Cycle, Again,” March 13, 2016). Hooray!