An unlikely aspiration

I took the photo you see here yesterday at the library I frequent (does anyone besides me use "frequent" that way?). The man was sitting in the chairs where the periodicals are. He was with a friend and while the friend read, the man dozed off. Every now and then he'd snort a little, a homey sound. When he woke up he got out of his chair with some effort and using his cane slowly exited the area.

A man naps in a public library.

Many libraries have rules about sleeping. Most such libraries are in cities, where the homeless come to get into a warm or, in summer, cool, place to sleep. At this suburban library the sleeping man was no cause for concern and he snoozed unbothered.
Not long ago, I would have mentally tutted at this man and looked forward to his departure. Now, though, that I am fifty-nine and have a leg amputation scheduled just two days from now and an uncertain (and likely bleak) prognosis ahead of me after it, this man represented a future I envy. 
Dressed solely for comfort, uncaring of any lack of approbation from others, he is completely at ease. He looks like a man who, if told he'd be dead in a week, would grumble a bit about it, but no more than if a promised order of hash browns he'd ordered in a diner failed to arrive.
We seek wisdom and look for it in the people around us and we get frustrated when our search is unsuccessful when really, it surrounds us.