“There is indeed a limit fixed for us, just where the remorseless law of Fate has fixed it; but none of us knows how near he is to this limit. Therefore let us so order our minds as if we had come to the very end. Let us postpone nothing. Let us balance life’s account every day.” –Seneca
We all know sad stories of people whose lives ended suddenly, of children taken by illness or accident, of good men and women gone too soon, their lives artlessly unfinished.
Real life is not a novel or a movie. There is no guarantee of a tidy ending with satisfying closure and a happy exit from the stage.
Reality is indifferent to your story, to your sense of justice, to the poetry you are crafting as the artist of your life.
This indifference, if I pause to comprehend it, is the most terrifying thing I know.
There are no guarantees, and my hopes for my own story ultimately have little power over circumstances beyond my control, over the capriciousness of fate.
But I do have power over how I respond to what reality brings my way today.
Tomorrow is not promised. But I can make the best of today. I can stop deferring dreams and postponing plans.
Make this day remarkable, a day worth talking about.
Live while you can. Craft your life one day at a time.