Alexandersmap

    Tag: Memento Mori

    • Moments of Clarity

      no baby, if you’re going to create
      you’re going to create whether you work
      16 hours a day in a coal mine
      or
      you’re going to create in a small room with 3 children
      while you’re on
      welfare,
      you’re going to create with a part of your mind and your
      body blown
      away,
      you’re going to create blind
      crippled
      demented,
      you’re going to create with a cat crawling up your
      back while
      the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment,
      flood and fire,

      baby, air and light and time and space
      have nothing to do with it
      and don’t create anything
      except maybe a longer life to find
      new excuses
      for.
      — Charles Bukowski, air and light and time and space

      I heard from the daughter of an industry friend. He doesn’t have long now, she told me, and is spending this time in hospice with family and friends. I reached out knowing this, and to offer a few words that I know will reach him through her. In such situations, we must say it now, or know that it will be never. These moments of clarity are profound when someone reaches the end of their life, but we must remember we’re all just a step behind them ourselves. Memento mori. So for gods sake, carpe diem already!

      We have so many excuses available to us to avoid telling someone how we feel, or to defer exercise and writing and creating beauty in a world insistent on growing darker. But it grows darker precisely because we defer the call of creating. This is our verse, after all, and it could all end today for us. What will we leave behind as our beacon of truth and courage?

      We must put all that energy used to create excuses aside and finally listen to the muse before our opportunity fades away forever. Produce something beautiful. For all the chaos and distraction, there will not be a better time than now. We’re going to create now, or know that it will be never.

    • The Total of Our Doing

      we are always asked
      to understand the other person’s
      viewpoint
      no matter how
      out-dated
      foolish or
      obnoxious.
      one is asked
      to view
      their total error
      their life-waste
      with
      kindliness,
      especially if they are
      aged.
      but age
      is the total of
      our doing.
      they have aged
      badly
      because they have
      lived
      out of focus,
      they have refused to
      see.
      not their fault?
      whose fault?
      mine?
      I am asked to hide
      my viewpoint
      from them
      or fear of their
      fear.
      age is no crime
      but the shame
      of a deliberately
      wasted
      life
      among so many
      deliberately
      wasted
      lives
      is.
      — Charles Bukowski, Be Kind

      We have all lived out of focus at times. Sometimes the good days make up for the bad. Sometimes. Like pulling an all-nighter to finish a paper we’ve procrastinated on, sometimes we pull focus out just in the nick of time to move the chains forward in our lives. But sometimes we wait a beat too long and the opportunity is lost forever. The lesson of course is to focus, but instead we blame it on fate or bad luck or the immigrants who moved in down the street who got straight to work.

      The answer has always been in focus. What kind of a life do we want to have? Why are we distracting ourselves with all of these things that pull us away from focusing on achieving that? What small, measurable step might we take right now to move us closer to the dream?

      The total of our doing keeps pace with wherever we are in this moment. How does it look so far? Stop being so outraged at the state of the world and do the things in our control. Look around and focus on the essential. To do otherwise is to waste more of this life that is already flying by so very quickly.

    • The Company We Keep

      “All we have experienced is so much gone within us, and there lies. It is the company we keep. One day, in health or sickness, it will come out and be remembered. Neither body nor soul forgets anything.” — Henry David Thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau

      We know that we are the sum of our experiences to this moment, so why do we short our experiences garnered today? We must live as if we were dying, as that song once suggested to the hungry masses. How many listen to a call like that? Maybe tomorrow, after we finish bing watching The Office again. Haven’t we learned yet that tomorrow’s never come? Memento mori...

      These are days we’ll remember—if we make it memorable. Those of us who write in a line per day journal know the coldness of not having much to write about on any given day. On days like that, as the evening gets dark and cold, I take the pup for a walk and look for planets amongst the stars, listen for owls and coyotes in the distance, inhale the crisp air and remember that I’m alive another day. So many of our days are there simply to connect the memorable ones together. But they all count just the same.

      Reading a journal entry from Thoreau written on this date in 1837, I thought of all that was to come for him. His own thoughts were on the sum of who he was to that point. We all write our future from the perspective of our experiences and observations thus far. Expanding the palate with progressively more adventurous moments that lead us to a shift in identity. We all have the kernel of our future within us, wrapped around our past. Our past life is the company we keep, whispering to us about all that we might discover if we just step beyond the sound of our own voice.

    • For Now

      “Eternal means timeless—no time. The human mind cannot understand that. The human mind can understand time and can deny time. What is timeless is beyond our comprehension. Yet the mystics tell us that eternity is right now. How’s that for good news? It is right now.” — Anthony de Mello, Awareness

      I’ve wrestled with time all of my adult life. I must be on time for the things I’ve scheduled, and on time for me is always early. I’m married to someone with a different idea of time, and the two of us have managed to peacefully coexist for a few decades despite the chasm this represents in my mind. Time matters a great deal in our world, but not in the universe. We can read that statement and know the truth of it while also dismissing it as irrelevant in our daily lives. Both can be true even as we operate in the absolutes of our beliefs.

      January felt like a longer month than its allotted thirty-one days. Blame it on winter and outrage if you’d like, but often it comes down to how present we are with the moment we occupy. When we feel swept up in events, time feels fleeting. We may feel we’re wasting it, or that it’s slipping through our hands. How much of this young year felt beyond our capacity to influence it?

      We know we have no time to waste time. We aren’t eternal ourselves, we merely exist, for now, in eternity. Having an expiration date means we must learn to appreciate the shelf life we’re given. To honor the eternity of this now by doing something with it. Time is ours now. Someday shockingly soon it will be someone else’s time. Eternity marches on indifferently just the same. So we must to do what calls for us—one now at a time.

    • A Fragile Walk

      On and on the rain will say
      How fragile we are how fragile we are
      — Sting, Fragile

      A woman in town walked out on the pond ice to take a picture of the moon and broke through the thin ice. She fought to get out of the frigid water, and when that failed, to hold on for help. After several minutes of struggle a rescuer had a hold of her and it felt like she would survive. But the ice broke on the rescuer and in his plunge he lost grip on the woman. Exhausted and hyperthermic she slipped under the water to her death. The rescuer, distraught and frozen, was himself rescued. I wondered what her plans were for the Saturday evening she wouldn’t live to see.

      It’s thankfully rare for someone to drown in this pond. A friend with a long memory can only recall two other incidents in the last hundred years. He had walked on the ice himself not far from where she broke through, but knew the ice better. She had simply strayed too far from the safety of thicker ice as dusk turned to dark to see the moon. Were it an hour earlier perhaps more people in the area could have made a difference.

      We all tread on fragile ground. Memento mori. Our duty is to recognize this and optimize the time we have left. Don’t fear dying, fear not living while we may.

    • Different Things

      “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results” — Attributed to Albert Einstein (but probably someone else lost to history)

      Habits have gotten us this far. Writing every day, for me best exemplified by this humble little blog, has expanded my experiences in the world as I sought out interesting things to write about. Reading every day pays dividends in creative thinking, a more expansive vocabulary and generally helps on trivia nights. These are habits that have brought me here, for all that here represents, and I’m grateful for having done them.

      And yet, some habits hold us back. I developed a routine during the pandemic of sitting at the home office desk and largely working from my desk. I bought a cool and comfortable chair. I bought a sit/stand desk that the cool chair neatly rolls under. I’ve gotten very comfortable in this space. Too comfortable. That routine no longer works in a world that wants engagement, and I force myself out into the world more often.

      If we want different outcomes, we’ve got to do different things. And so we must find new positive habits, systems and routines to replace the old ones. To try to stay the same represents stasis and our eventual decline. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep reading and writing and working out, but it does mean we ought to question why we do things a certain way and look for ways to improve.

      I made a decision this week to stop doing Duolingo, the language learning app that has been a part of my routine for 5-6 years now. It’s become an obligation to keep a streak of days going, but I’m not serious enough about it to actually reach proficiency in the languages I’m trying to learn while using it. Plus they keep ruining the experience by making it more of a game to lure more young users in. More power to them, but it doesn’t resonate with me anymore. And so it joins other apps that seemed productive once and now ring hollow. Au revoir Duo.

      The thing is, that’s not the only part of my daily routine that I’m questioning. I’m ready to turn it all upside down and try a new routine on for size. I almost shut down the blog a while back, but recognize the value in writing every day and changed my expectations about it instead. The first thing one ought to do with any habit is ask why we do it in the first place? What’s our why? Where is it bringing us? If we don’t like the answer, change the habit.

      Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
      Tell me, what is it you plan to do
      with your one wild and precious life?
      — Mary Oliver, The Summer Day

      Thanks for the reminder, Mary. Yes, we’re all going to be lost to history one day, too soon: Memento mori. When are we going to stop diddling around with a routine that wastes our precious life and get on the path to meet our potential? Personal excellence (arete) is evasive, but it’s mostly a lifestyle choice. We can choose to keep getting better at the things that matter the most on our trajectory or we can get distracted by silly things. The choice has always been ours to make.

    • Stories to Tell

      He who does not travel, who does not read,
      who can not hear music,
      who does not find grace in himself,
      she who does not find grace in herself,
      dies slowly.
      He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
      who does not allow himself to be helped,
      who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops,
      dies slowly.
      — Martha Medeiros, Die Slowly

      Sure, this blog is one big reminder to live in the moment and to savor it all. Amor fati already! The aim is a counter narrative to the relentless soundtrack of outrage, nihilism and distraction found in most media platforms nowadays. Be the change you wish to see in the world and all that. In this way the blog is a lifeline to anyone who needs to hear it, beginning with the author.

      What became clear a thousand posts or so ago is that writing a blog is a solitary act of self reflection shared with the world, or at least the few that seek it out or stumble upon it. Travel, reading, music, gardening, hiking—whatever it is we’re exploring in the season and discovering within ourselves ought to be fair game. Every day is a statement of here we are.

      We are alive today, and maybe not tomorrow. We must heighten our appreciation for that gift and find within ourselves the grace to accept and carry the weight of our brief shelf life. Not to dwell on it, just to acknowledge it as a compelling reason to jump back into the dance with life.

      So bravo to the adventurous spirits who seize their precious lives and get after it. We all should be so bold. You do you, I’ll do me, and perhaps we’ll meet on the dance floor one day soon. If we are blessed to meet again, may we each have our share of intriguing stories to tell.

    • The Only One

      “We have two lives, and the second begins when we realize we have only one.” — Confucius

      Blame it on autumn, or maybe the series of life events I’m currently passing through, but it feels like life is starting over again. Every moment we’re fully alive offers that opportunity of course, but stack enough stuff on the scale and the balance tips enough. Enough for what? For whatever is next in this one wild and precious life, as Mary Oliver so vividly put it.

      This is it, last time I checked, so let’s make the most of our time together. Double down on adventure, take calculated risks more frequently, do the “one day” bucket list things in this time bucket while we have the vitality to experience all it might offer. Defer deferral for a [real] change.

      So stop wasting time already! This is all we have left. Practice active savoring in this one and only dance through life. We can be co-conspirators while the rest of the world marches on thinking there will always be a tomorrow. Let’s not waste a second on such illusions. Seize what flees.

    • The Unexpected Guest

      Before you cross the street
      Take my hand
      Life is what happens to you
      While you’re busy making other plans
      — John Lennon, Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)

      This year will go down as the year of falls in our family. There have been a lot of them, and each brings with it the siren call of life happening, no matter what our plans were a moment before. We must then be resilient, knowing the falls will come, knowing life is all curveballs and fickleness.

      The time to build resilience has already passed when life happens. We ought to be ahead of it as best we can, that we may persevere and grow from the fall instead of spiraling down the slippery slope. It all comes down to how easily we can pivot when those other plans drop in for an unexpected visit.

      We see the future in each stumble that our aging elders make. In the big scheme of things, we aren’t that far off from fragility ourselves. All we can do is defer it as far into our future as we can. Life will happen sooner than expected, it’s the bounce back that gets harder. Each day is our opportunity to build resiliency and flexibility into our lives, that we may one day receive the unexpected guest as prepared as one can be in such moments.

    • Kicking Life Down the Curb

      “Any idiot can face a crisis; it’s this day-to-day living that wears you out.” ― Anton Chekhov

      The leaves are falling down pretty quickly now. I type this knowing the truth of that statement: I’ll soon need to clean the pool one last time before putting the cover on and shutting it down until April. Having a pool at all is a luxury in this mad world and I appreciate it for all that it offers, but understand there’s a tax that comes with owning one. The tax is time and attention that might be applied to something else. Everything has its season.

      A pool, like people, grows weary over time. Parts wear out and need to be repaired or replaced. There’s a cost to this and one wonders how long to keep going with it before you just stop using it altogether. It would make a lovely frog pond, as the frequent visitors attest before I scoop them out and relocate them. Yes, there’s a season for a pool in a lifetime. There’s a season for a lot of things. One day the season will end, in the meantime we kick decisions like what to do about that thing down the curb.

      Ah yes, life has its seasons. We grow into some as we grow out of others. The most healthy and vibrant wear out over time. Knowing this, we must not kick life down the curb, but embrace our potential in the here and now. The thing to kick down the curb is the relentless decline of our health and well-being through good choices today. We mustn’t defer living, but rather defer declining through better choices. Sure.

      There’s always something to face—some tax to pay for our day in the sun. And with it there’s also something to kick down the curb. We must remember to make the most of the now we’re in while still preparing for the next. For the next is coming, but the now is flying quickly past.