This old earth has spun ’round the sun 40 times since my founding egg and sperm got cozy with each other, and yet I’m still a solo act: no wife, no family, no tribe. While a life partner and tribe can be left to happen whenever they happen — if they happen — I’m at the point where I think I need to either become a daddy, soon, or give up the idea once and for all.
Hope floats.
Photo: iStockphoto.
If I ever did co-create a baby, I would want to revel in being a father, rolling and tumbling and running and wrestling and shouting and dancing. I wouldn’t want to be dragging along, worn out and gasping for breath — and I can’t assume I’ll be spry enough to match a 10-year-old at 55.
But here’s the rub: I’m also striving to progressively reduce my destructive impact on the world, walking a path to reach sustainability. Yet I live in a world of almost 6.5 billion people, up from 3.3 billion when I was born and projected to be a smidge over 9 billion when I’m 80 (oh, you cockeyed optimist, you!). I can’t imagine how anyone looking at numbers... Read more
