“You live as if you were destined to live forever, no thought of your frailty ever enters your head, of how much time has already gone by you take no heed. You squander time as if you drew from a full and abundant supply, though all the while that day which you bestow on some person or thing is perhaps your last.”—Seneca
We could use a daily contemplation on how limited our time is in this life. Most of us avoid thinking about it, or get worked up or sad when we think about it. But it’s a powerful contemplation.
Today, I’d like to share a series of brief contemplations on the shortness of life that I find valuable.
Or we could wake up to the brief time we have here and decide to make the most of it.
If I’d known the last visits from my dad were the last, I would have cherished those days even more. Remembering this, I can make the most of the days I have left with people I care about—including myself.
Instead, we could fully appreciate this limited gift. When someone hands you an incredibly valuable gift, do you ask them why there’s so little of it? Or do you rejoice at what you’ve been given?
Could we appreciate every single day as a valuable, powerful, joyous gift?
That’s like thinking about future meals, while you’re eating your current meal. You can’t enjoy the meal you’re eating now.
What if we could savor the day we’re currently living?
This is like an actor who finally gets a chance to go on stage and spends the time moaning that he only gets one scene. Hey, bozo! Make the most of your one scene. Make an impact with what you have.
What if we could live a life full of wonder, joy, love, fully alive?
Do we want to spend the hour we have at the playground trying to rigidly make sure we’re doing the merry-go-round correctly, or do we want to have a raucous good time?
What if we could forget for a bit about how we look, how we are coming across, whether we’re OK, and, instead, fully love the breathtaking sunset in front of us?
Even more, what would it be like to love all of it, all beings—ourselves included?
What if the struggles were a part of the point of this limited time we have? The struggles are what form us and cause the growth and learning to mature us into our full selves. The struggles aren’t a thing we have to get through—they’re a big part of the thing itself.
Could we view this life as a crucible that helps forge us, that helps uncover who we really are? And embrace the struggles as a beautiful place of learning and wonder?
The Japanese have a term, “mono no aware,” that can be translated as “a sensitivity to ephemera”—those things that will not last. The idea speaks to this impermanent, ephemeral nature to all things. It’s so sweet, tinged with some sadness, because everything we care about is beautiful and fleeting. This fleetingness only makes things more precious.
If you had a delicious treat in unlimited quantities, you might take it for granted. But if you knew that you could only taste this for a short time, that it would soon be gone, you might taste the sweetness of the treat with more vividness. More joy. More wonder.