What does it mean to have truly lived a life one might ask. Very few of us have any sort of answer of depth or of validity. What is to adventure? Is it true that not all that that wander are lost? It was the great author Salman Rushdie, a man Ross considers a friend and contemporary, who said of him ‘Sometimes legends make reality, and become more useful than the facts.’ But where does the story of Ross begin and where does it end? But more important, what does it mean to live, and if we are indeed alive as we might speculate, is our life linear? What was there before there was anything? If there was nothing before there was something, than was that nothing in fact something?
An early protégé of Ross, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, once noted “The proof that the little prince existed is that he was charming, that he laughed, and that he was looking for a sheep. If anybody wants a sheep, that is a proof that he exists.” And that very well could be the ultimate paradox when exploring life as in wine; the sheep did indeed laugh or perchance it didn’t. Perhaps the sheep was charming, but when we really think of it who am I, who are you, who is Ross to say the sheep was charming. What matters is whether we want to lie or to tell the truth and write the truth, even though it never can be the truth and never is the truth. And that’s it right there; with that we achieve fulfilment and with that we achieve futility and with that we can accept our noble victorious failure and only then can we become our existence and realize that while we might not have called ourselves into existence, we can still refuse to throw it all away too cheaply as well.
That is perhaps what we seek throughout life, that and nothing more, the greatest possible sorrow so as to become fully ourselves before dying.Ross O.