As I dive deeper into Python, I stumbled upon a humbling piece of code. It's a simple program, yet it carries the weight of life's finitude on its shoulders. The task was to calculate the remaining weeks in our lives, assuming a life expectancy of 90 years. It goes like this:
# Prompt the user for their current age
age = input("Please enter your age: ")
# Calculate the number of years remaining assuming a life expectancy of 90 years
years_remaining = 90 - int(age)
# Convert the years remaining into weeks
weeks_remaining = years_remaining * 52
# Output the result to the user
print(f"You have {weeks_remaining} weeks left, if we assume a life expectancy of 90 years.")It's startling, isn't it? When you run the program and see your life quantified in weeks, it brings an unexpected clarity. We often speak of time as if it were an infinite resource, yet it's our most finite one.
This program, as simple as it is, aligns beautifully with an article I read on Wait But Why, where life is visualized in a series of boxes, each representing one week. The visualization is a stark reminder of how precious each week is.
⏳ I have 3,120 weeks left
In the bustling world of product management, we're always looking forward. We're planning the next sprint, the next release, the next big thing. But this little Python program serves as a gentle tap on the shoulder, reminding us to be present.
Being present isn't just about mindfulness or meditation. It's about savoring the process as much as the outcome. It's in the sense of accomplishment after solving a complex problem, and the thrill of seeing a product you helped bring to life being used by several people.
So, as we embark on our respective journeys towards excellence in our fields, let's take a moment to appreciate the weeks we have. Let's be intentional about how we spend our time, both personally and professionally. Because in the end, the weeks will pass, whether we count them or not. It's what we fill them with that matters.
Until the next post, keep iterating and stay curious.