To Make Much Of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, 
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles today 
To-morrow will be dying. 
The glorious lamp of Heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run.
And nearer he’s to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

This was written by Robert Herrick in the 17th century. A prolific writer, he penned over 2,500 poems. The overwhelming messages of his work is that the world is a beautiful place, love is splendid, that life is short, and we must make use of the time we have on Earth. Carpe diem!

Seize the day. Seize this day. That’s the “anthem” of the modern day person. We’re suppose to wake up, fly out of bed, feet landing with a thud, and squeeze every bit of pulp out of life. No matter what the circumstances, we shouldn’t be overly tired, overly stressed, overly sad, or dwell on the past. At any point, if we linger on the negative or less than happy emotions or physical state, we’ve lived less than we could. We must be forward thinking and always moving forward. The arrow of time after all does not sit still nor take a turn back once it’s been flung.

It’s really tough to imagine this kind of person if they really exist. It’s an ideal. We often wake up groggy and wearied eyed from staying up too late for no good reason, barely able to drag ourselves away from the bed. We’re battered from working in our cubicles, spending at least eight hours a day doing work that we don’t love or even like all too much, coming home lifeless and out of breath. We’re pained by loss and heartache. Life always has a way of completely stopping us in its tracks. We dwell and ruminate. Our arrow frozen in flight, encased in a thickening shell of ice.

Then one day we wake up and realize that the promises of more days might not come again and that there may be less days ahead than behind. We worry that our legacy will be, “He worked hard at so and so for x number of decades and had nothing to show for it”. We angst at the thought that our lives might amount to be very unremarkable and unknown.

This is why I’ve been and will be writing again. Not for fame or riches, but for the need to always create, engage, and tell stories that tickle my soul and fire the synapses of imagination. I’ve found the most joy and deep passion out of this and it’s my way of seizing the day. What’s yours?

This isn’t a call to irresponsibility and to drop everything in life, although it might mean that. This is a call to live each day in richness, fullness, and joy. This is a call to passion and its relentless pursuit. Time to abandon the shackles and whatever else holds you down. Walk with me. Do, create, share, live, enjoy. And here we begin again.

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