Tag: Memento Mori

  • Every Morning, So Far, I’m Alive

    “Every morning I walk like this around
    the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart
    ever close, I am as good as dead

    Every morning, so far, I’m alive.  And now
    the crows break off from the rest of the darkness
    and burst up into the sky – as though

    all night they had thought of what they would like
    their lives to be, and imagined
    their strong, thick wings.”
     – Mary Oliver, Landscape

    I’m doing Mary Oliver an injustice not putting the entire poem here, for the full meaning of a poem comes from reading the entirety, but then again I’m pointing emphatically towards all of her work, imploring you to read more.  When I first read this poem, Landscape, it was a gut punch for me.  I’ve returned to it a few times and these lines still grab me, for they perfectly capture the frame of mind I’m in in my own life.  It’s not lost on me that Mary Oliver passed away in 2019, and somewhere along the way that may have been how I found and keep returning to her work.

    2019 has been a profound year of growth and change for me, from stoicism to spirituality to poetry, immersive trips to some places close to home and some bucket list travel to places further away.  There’s friction in me that the writing has revealed, whether that’s mid-life nonsense or creeping unfinished business that gnaws at me, disrupting my day-to-day thoughts.  I’ve become a better person this year, but know there’s a long way to go still.  For as much as there is to be grateful for, Memento mori whispers in the wind, and I can hear it more than ever.  Remember, we all must die…  but every morning, so far, I’m alive.  What shall you do with this gift?  More, I say to myself, and this De Mello challenge comes to mind:

    “People don’t live, most of you, you don’t live, you’re just keeping the body alive.  That’s not life.” – Anthony De Mello

    This isn’t a call to leave all that you’ve built, but instead to be fully alive and aware of the world around you.  Break off from the rest of the darkness and be fully alive.  Thoreau didn’t leave Concord, he immersed himself in the world at Walden Pond but still maintained contact with the people in his life.  But his awareness grew in the stillness.

    “Be it life or death, we crave only reality.  If we are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel cold in the extremities; if we are alive, let us go about our business…  Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.  I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is.  Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains.” – Henry David Thoreau, Walden

    So I’m doing better at this awareness thing, and this making the most of the time you have thing, and I keep flapping the wings and fly when I can.  Life isn’t just stacking one adventure upon another one, real living is immersion and awareness.  Mary Oliver joined De Mello and Thoreau on the other side of life this year, this very year that I’ve made a few leaps forward in being more alive.  Maybe adding her voice to the chorus of whispers from those who have left us was the tipping point, or maybe I was already there.  But I’m grateful for her contribution nonetheless.

  • Viewing Hedonism Through a Stoic Lens

    I was making coffee with the AeroPress this morning. I’ve quickly grown to love this coffee press for its ease of use, quick cleanup and the great cup of coffee it produces. It got me thinking about this concept of hedonic adaptation I’d been reading about, where we quickly become accustomed to new things that once excited us. Every iPhone owner has experienced this the day a new iPhone was introduced. The trick is to not to allow stuff to dictate your mood. Easier said than done, but there’s value in trying. Will I eventually take the AeroPress for granted? Probably, but Stoicism offers a path.

    “Regularly reminding yourself that you might lose any of the things you currently enjoy–indeed, that you will definitely lose them all, in the end, when death catches up with you–would reverse the adaptation effect.” – Oliver Burkeman, The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking

    There you go: Memento mori. Stoicism taps me on the shoulder once again telling me not to worry about all that stuff, you’ll lose it all in the end anyway. Your happiness can’t be dependent on the newest shiny toy you buy. None of that stuff matters. Does that mean I can’t enjoy that AeroPress? Not at all, just don’t depend on an object for happiness. That’s a fools game, and expensive to boot.

    According to Wikipedia, “The hedonic treadmill, also known as hedonic adaptation, is the observed tendency of humans to quickly return to a relatively stable level of happiness despite major positive or negative events or life changes. According to this theory, as a person makes more money, expectations and desires rise in tandem, which results in no permanent gain in happiness.”

    I’m watching Sunday football as I finish writing this, tolerating the endless stream of commercials promising me happiness if I buy this car or that, order pizza from that delivery place, or buy that latest iPhone with the cool-ass camera(s). All designed to trigger desire for what you don’t currently have. And all nonsense when you view it through a stoic lens.

  • Part of the Eternal

    “Putting things off is the biggest waste of life: it snatches away each day as it comes, and denies us the present by promising the future. The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today. You are arranging what lies in Fortune’s control, and abandoning what lies in yours. What are you looking at? To what goal are you straining? The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately.” – Seneca. On The Shortness of Life

    I was listening to a podcast interview with Elizabeth Gilbert where she discussed the death of a woman she had a relationship with, and the words she heard from another writer friend, Ann Patchett, who told her:

    “[Your loved one] belongs to the eternal now, and someday soon you will too.  And that’s true for all of us.  You have an infinite amount of time to belong to the eternal with her.  But you only have this tiny bit of time to have this experience as a human being on Earth.  Don’t lose it by trying to merge with her now.  Merge with this, what’s here, the people who are here, what’s in front of you.  The weird, strange, heartbreaking thing of being mortal.  Do that….  This moment of being human is not to be wasted.” – Elizabeth Gilbert/Ann Patchett

    I write about death.  Not because I’m in a hurry to get there, mind you, but because it’s a reality for all of us, and embracing stoicism means embracing the concept of Memento Mori; remembering that we all must die.  By acknowledging that you set yourself up to make the most of the time you have here.  The alternative is to deny that it will ever happen and not make the most of your time.  Seems a waste, really, to not get every bit of marrow out of the bone.  Take the highlighter out and brighten up the daily pages.

    “We ought to hear at least one little song everyday, read a poem, see a first-rate painting, and if possible speak a few sensible words.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

    Being part of the eternal, the infinite other that we’re all heading towards, makes me focus more on living.  I think I’d like to make a run to 100 and put that eternity thing off as long as possible.  I have a lot of people to reconnect with whenever I get there. Then too, if this side offers a brief window of time to experience living, isn’t it essential to play your cards with some enthusiasm?  It’s Friday once again.  Another string of days has passed.  Surely we owe it to our eternal selves to make the most of this day ahead.  The infinite might just nod its approval.

  • Dancing with Elephants

    Dancing with Elephants

    “One day you will wake up and there won’t be any more time to do the things you’ve always wanted.  Do it now.” – Paulo Coelho

    Fresh off a trip to Key West and celebrating family time on Thanksgiving, I’m already thinking about the next trip.  Frankly, I was thinking about the next trip before I took the last trip.  I have a serious case of Wander Lust.  I was watching a scene from Local Hero that inspired me to look up where it was filmed in Scotland.  Turns out it was filmed in several locations, all beautiful.  That led me to Google how long the drive would be from Edinburgh to one of those locations, and that led to a big lump in my throat.  How the heck am I going to pull this trip off with all the other trips I want to do?  Wander lust reality check struck again.

    “Just be, and enjoy being.  If you are present, there is never any need for you to wait for anything.” – Eckhart Tolle

    Thanksgiving brought together family, and ever so briefly, filled the empty nest before the kids went back to school.  They say that you’ve used up 90% of the time you’ll spend with your children and parents by the time you graduate college.  That’s certainly true if you live far away or travel often.  We have to remember that we’re all here for a brief time and embrace the time we have together.  It’s all just a blip of time.  Think about how fast this year has gone as we approach the end of the eleventh month.  Then mix in the reality of how little control we have over our time together.  I’ve watched too many people exit this world too soon.  A person I worked with lost her husband to a heart attack on Thanksgiving night.  They’d been married for a little more than a year.  You really never know how much time you have with someone. You never know how much time you have left yourself.  Do it now.

    “… we need to hurry.  Not just because we move daily closer to death but also because our understanding – our grasp of the world – may be gone before we get there.” – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    “Think of yourself as dead.  You have lived your life.  Now take what’s left and live properly.”
    – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    So there it is; the dueling priorities of time with family and friends versus time exploring the world.  I’ve always said I love travel, it’s the tradeoff of time away from family that I hate.  Best to take them along if possible.  But that gets prohibitively expensive quickly.  And there’s the dilemma.  One I confess I haven’t mastered yet.  Balancing work and family and financial responsibility and elephant hunting for a “successful” life.  Challenging to say the least.

    The year started with hope and adventure in Portugal.  The elation of hiking along the cliffs of Sagres and watching surfers bob in the swells as the sun set was offset by my wish that family and friends were there to enjoy it with me.  Key West was delightful.  But more so because Kris was there with me.  Hiking the Appalachian Trail is a life goal, but one that will come at a cost should I pursue it.  It’s unlikely that Kris would go, and regardless, for every moment spent hiking the AT, I’d be subtracting moments I’d be spending with family or on some other activity.

    “Don’t you ever get the feeling that all your life is going by and you’re not taking advantage of it?  Do you realize that you’ve lived nearly half the time you have to live already?” – Robert Cohn to Jacob Barnes, The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway

    Such is the curse of a short life.  And the blessing of a life lived in relative freedom and prosperity that grants us the opportunities to experience these things at all.  The vast majority of people who have lived or live in third world countries or under totalitarian conditions couldn’t imagine the opportunities to see and do the things that we can do now.  Wars and disease and dictatorships have conspire against the vast majority of humanity’s hopes and dreams.  So I’m at once filled with gratitude for that which I can experience and frustration that I can’t experience even more.  Greedy?  Perhaps, but then again, wouldn’t it be worse to ignore the opportunities presented to you?

    As I wrote about previously, the expression “I have seen the elephant” meant that you’ve experienced a rare, bucket list thing.  Seeing the pyramids or the Great Wall of China or the Eiffel Tower are “elephants”.  Seeing an elephant, before zoos and in-captivity breeding programs, was once incredibly rare for most people on earth.  Having seen the literal elephant, visiting notable places or experiencing notable things – that Grand Canyon moment if you will, is the figurative “elephant” that I pursue now.

    And I have many elephants on the dance card.  Extended stays in Scotland, Dublin, Paris, Hawaii, New Zealand, Machu Picchu are on the card, and so is viewing the Aurora Borealis and hiking the Appalachian Trail and sailing in the Greek Isles.  All elephants I’d like to dance with before I take my last breath.  Hopefully I’ll find a way to check each of those boxes before I reach age 60, and maybe dwell in a few spots along the way.  And in that time I’m already balancing both Ian and Emily graduating college and hitting their own life milestones.  And time with family and friends, and making a small dent in the universe in career and work contribution.  Prioritization.  Eliminating things that aren’t as important.  Focusing on the things that matter most.  There’s no time to lose really.