I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. Not in a bad way, mind. I’ve had to do a few funeral services recently for men that I really cared for. Fraternal stuff and what not. When you’re standing in front of a casket, reciting words to a service, and looking out at the family and friends of the deceased you can’t help but think about the finality of it all.

Death is ever present. It’s that little itch in the back of your mind. You know very well that some day your time on this spinning ball of dirt will come to an end and you will never know when exactly that will be. That daily nudge is one of the best and worst things about being a human being. It can tell you to go out and live or it can paralyze you into inaction. The decision, as with most things you can control, is up to you.

The Stoics had the saying, “Memento Mori”. Remember that you will die. Seneca is famous for the words, “Let us prepare our minds as if we’d come to the very end of life. Let us postpone nothing. Let us balance life’s books each day. … The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time.”

The wisdom of the Stoics is profound and there’s comfort in their thoughts in a world that sometimes isn’t comfortable. As time marches on, we see the daily reminders of that grim tyrant. Your point of view is how you perceive it. Death can be a shadow that you can’t flee from or it can be a friend that shows you what truly matters. I try to look to the latter and focus on what matters and not what wastes time.

Recently, I’ve had some friends lose family. It hurts deeply, but the reality of it all is that losing loved ones is as natural as breathing. It’s the next great adventure. It’s the flip side of the coin to welcoming a newborn into this world.

You can’t help but think about their lives and how amazing and crazy their human experience was. Just like yours, but different. Just like every single person buried in cemeteries around the world. They all lived, loved, had astonishing joys and terribly awful things happen to them, and at some point they left this world. Just like that newborn who today is being welcomed to this world and someday will part this world.

I’ve had some friends and family get sick lately. When a bad sickness strikes, mortality suddenly comes to the forefront of your mind and you wonder when you might get sick. There’s that old friend anxiety again. Rearing its ugly hydra-like head of a million what ifs.

If you wallow in those thoughts, you’ll never see the wonder of all that is this life. Death will darken your doorstep long before he truly comes for you.

So what do you do? You live until you can’t. You say yes more than you say no because there will come a time in your life where you can’t spend hours on the water rowing and casting. Your back or your shoulders will say no more. We can’t. Some day there won’t be enough pain relievers to keep you upright in the casting braces.

Someday, but not today. Today, you try to eat healthy and get enough sleep. You stay active and workout when you can. You take your physical and mental health seriously and you actually go the doctor instead of ignoring that nagging pain. You smile more than you frown. You focus on positive words instead of the negative. You make those years in between the dash on your tombstone count.

Like the waters we’re all haunted by, time flows on. Long after we’re gone from here, it will continue to flow over those old rocks in the stream of life.

Balance those books daily, my friends. Live fully. Love hard. You’re not getting off this space rock alive. Spend that time you’ve been given doing things that matter with people who matter.

Some day, years from now, when all you have left are the memories make sure they’re good ones.

1 thought on “Momento Mori

  1. The dash. We don’t give that nearly the consideration it deserves. Take the wonder of life and pass it on.

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