Tempus Fugit

11:19 AM 2 Comments

People always say to live each day as if it were your last. I disagree with this cliched advice. If I knew today would be my last, I would probably be irresponsible, reckless, and selfish. I would say some goodbyes (including a video to my unborn son), feel sorry for myself, attempt to up my life insurance policy, and then start a frantic rush to do a bunch of crazy things I've always wanted to do.

I would quit my job (or at least not show up), and then I would go buy a Nissan GTR and drive extremely fast to the nearest place that would let me strap on a parachute and jump out of an airplane. I would dine at expensive restaurants without regard for cost, calories, or nutrition.

I might charter a jet to some luxurious resort on a tropical island so that I could watch the sunset listening to the waves lap against a private beach of fine white sand with my arms wrapped tightly around my beautiful, loving wife. The lightest of breezes would whisper through her straightened, glossy hair, tickling my arms and face with its gentle flutters.

After a moonlit stroll along the water packed sand and an inadvertent, but pleasant, dip or two into the warm tropic waters, we would retire to our penthouse sweet to eat chocolate fondue and find the perfect ending to my last day in each others' arms.

Sounds pretty amazing. In fact, I got so caught up in it, I wrote quite a bit more than I intended and digressed from the point I was trying to make--which is that it would be pretty stupid to try and live each day like that.

After a day like that, if I woke up the next morning still alive, I would be extremely stressed. Eventually I would figure out some way to pay for my worldly indulgences without the benefit of a huge life insurance payout. But if I tried to live every day like that, I would quickly kill myself or at least jeopardize my health. I would be bankrupt in a matter of days or even hours and would lose the ability to provide for myself and my family.

Instead of trying to live each day as if it were your last, what if you lived each day as if you'd been given only two to three years to live? What kind of legacy would you try to leave? You would still have to live within the regular limits of reality, but you would have the urgency of a life on shortened time. How would you show your love for your family and friends? What would you value most? What great feats would you attempt? Could you change the world? If not the whole world, the world of some? How would you prepare to meet your maker? Would your shortened time and looming mortality affect your faith or belief in a "maker"?

As I've contemplated this concept and answered these questions for myself, I've gained insight into what I want to do and be and increased my resolve to live accordingly.

I'm sure that without a real reason to believe my time is limited, it won't be easy to maintain the urgency and focus I'd feel otherwise. No one knows the expiration date stamped on their life by unseen heavenly powers; we only know our days our numbered. Thus, time should always be treated as the most precious of resources. Once it passes it can never be regained. For all our trying, we can never get more or less of it allotted to us. We can only decide what to do with the little we have. How will you choose to spend your time?