When I was diagnosed and treated for prostate cancer in 1996, I made a decision that changed my life forever. Prostate cancer is slow growing, and if the treatment did not work, I would still have at least ten more years to live. In my case, it appeared that the cancer had metastasized (it had not). So I decided to live my life as if I only had ten more years. This happened at a time when my friend, Dave Roux—who was then responsible for Corporate Development and M&A at Oracle and I were working together to create a leveraged buyout firm.
Having made the decision to live as if I only had ten years, I realized I did not want to spend those years running a private equity firm, and I told that to Dave. He went on to create Silverlake, which became a very successful firm. In the process, he became a billionaire. I assume I would have as well. By the way, Dave is a really good person. His family foundation supports many important projects.
I took a different path—one that I do not regret. It was no longer tied to any organization and not driven by financial concerns.
I thought at the time that ten years was long enough to accomplish something like learning a new language, developing new skills, or having a deep and meaningful relationship—but short enough to feel some urgency. Thinking that you only have ten years to live could be considered pessimistic. But now, at the age of 80, I think it is an optimistic way to consider the future.
I struggle with my age, and I have written about that in this blog. Sometimes I wake up in shock when I realize how old I have become. While about 60% of men live to 80, only about 10% are in excellent health (I appear to be one of those). Ten years later, only about 5% of men are still alive—and those who are, are overwhelmingly in poor health.
While I have a good chance of making it to 90, it is not just a question of life span. Health span is the critical question. While I wrote that I am in excellent health, I am starting to notice a decline in my hearing and sight. I wonder, are we as old as our oldest part? I hope not.
We had left Israel just before October 7, 2023, on a combination vacation and business trip. Having already decided to move from Israel in 2025, we accelerated that decision. I loved living in Israel, but the Israel I had loved was no more. We needed to create a new life.
We ended up moving to Amsterdam, where I was engaged in work related to AI and cancer diagnosis. It felt like a rest stop in what had become a very confusing world—still in motion, but catching our breath. Eventually, we chose Italy. I had always said jokingly that in my next life, I’d come back as an Italian—and then I thought, why wait?
But my 80th birthday weighed heavily on me. I struggled to imagine my future. We desperately wanted to settle into our own home. I missed my piano, which was still sitting in storage in San Francisco. The piano I had in Tel Aviv was sold with that house. We missed our art and the small things that my wife and I had collected over our years together.
The question of how to use the ten years—likely the last ten years—came into sharper focus recently, as we made a major life decision: we would put down our roots in Italy.
My anxiety about the future came to a head when we decided to buy a home in Lecce, Italy. I tried to imagine my life living in this city at this age and over the next ten years. It was then that I realized the decision to live as if I only had ten years was no longer a pessimistic view but an optimistic one, and I decided to embrace that optimism. We will live in Lecce in a beautiful palazzo in the heart of the historic center. Lecce is called the Florence of the South. It is a Baroque city located less than 30 minutes from amazing beaches on both the Adriatic and Ionian seas.
It will be almost essential for me to learn Italian. I am struggling with that. This is the third language I’ve had to learn after English but I am committed to doing it.
One reason to remain optimistic is the progress I expect we will see in health care because of AI. I am watching this closely and am personally involved in the field as an advisor to the Longevity Center at Sheba Hospital in Israel. I have started to get involved in longevity research in Italy as well. I still want to engage in creating the future and believe I have much to offer. I want not only to live longer and better—but to help others do that as well.
So whether I am winding down, winding up, or just winding my way through this next chapter, I know one thing for certain: I’m still moving forward—with curiosity, with purpose, hope and a song in my soul.
