Speaking before he died a few weeks ago, Wilson reflected on life and death….
“I used to joke in my early 50s that I’d had such a fantastic life, I’d be happy to die,”
“And then suddenly, I find some other reasons for living and just like get excited again about life when it comes along. So that was slightly annoying. I think I was a lord of my own presumption for thinking I’d be happy to die”
Somehow related, is the feeling i have since the arrival of the smallest smallholder… I get afraid that all this happiness in doing what we’re doing, the complete sense of satisfaction (while, perversely, never being completely satisfied), the removal of that endless buzz of looking for whatever it was I was looking for, will call in some dreadful levelling…not a tragedy – nothing so grand, just a return to a dullness, to lack of ‘a point’….maybe I’m afraid of having to get a job