Photo by Simon Wilkes on Unsplash
I’ve come to the conclusion that my happiest days will be my final ones. I think I will live a long life, and I think I will be fortunate to retain relatively good health up until the end.
In those final few years, I will be at peace. I will, perhaps finally, feel free. No pressures from society. Enough financial security to live out my last days. And, most importantly, my internal pressures to serve others finally satiated.
It’s probably odd for me to talk about the end of my life. Indeed, I think it’s actually somewhat taboo. Going past our ‘prime’ years in the big cities is some frightening thought. The idea of even mentioning death brings up such discomfort that people avoid it at all costs.
I think people are frightened at zooming out of their lives. The questioning of something as grand as life’s meaning is so overwhelming that many prefer to keep their head’s down and pretend the end will never come.
There’s also the fact that youth is so heralded in modern, and particularly western, cultures. No longer being young means no longer being relevant. A whole culture has been built upon avoiding growing old.
But for me, I think my later years will be far more enjoyable. The earlier period has been a lot more difficult, particularly so in the last few years. But this has also meant that I’ve come to terms with a lot more things much earlier.
Writing my father’s biography was my own way of understanding legacy, heritage and mortality. These are no soft topics, and they are taking their toll on me. I am often waking up with my body completely braced. I feel like I have gone for a two hour gym session. Instead of resting, my existence has been doing heavy processing and re-framing. I often wake up exhausted.
My trajectory makes me feel out of sync with the world. Many things I create don’t seem to resonate with the people around me. I am too young to be seen as a wise person, but my soul is too old to want the frivolities of modern life. I’ve often had the sense that I do valuable things, but any effort I make registers barely at an imprint.
I have found great comfort in Jyotish, or vedic astrology. Of all the attempts at explanations I have found, it is the one place that seems to explain my predicament. My life is one with a heavy burden and difficulty from a young age. It’s what has honed this sense of wisdom. It also has predicted fairly accurately why the last few years have been so difficult. Both my vimshottari and yogini dashas highlight particularly difficult times from around 2023 up until late 2026. The themes it often assign – burnout, career collapse, stripping away of falsehoods – have broadly come true.
This period has been about learning to learn discipline without reward. More deeply, it’s also been about releasing the tension in my body, and not constantly hustling to get through. The intense dreams I have are my body releasing internalised tension. So although they are exhausting, they are actually a positive sign.
The astrology shows that my life will improve a lot. I follow a later bloomer archetype. The height of my powers will likely be in my 40s/50s, perhaps even my 60s. By then, the tables will shift. I think I will have moved from being a strange, sometimes morbid oddball to one of being a respected, albeit somewhat eccentric elder. Although I care little for titles, the idea of being respected and valued is something I greatly look forward to.
And as for the end of my life? By my 80s I’m due to have a very calm, peaceful and loving end.