One Day

Last week a student voiced his concerns over the potential of a nuclear attack from Russia. It felt like a strange deja vu. When I was barely older than he, such thoughts frequently crossed my mind. I joined CND marches; read up on the literature; watched the soul chilling movie, ‘The Day After’. Of course, disaster did not strike, Greenham Common was dismantled and we moved into a time of relative peace. So, I reassured him. Mutually assured destruction served no-one and, I hope, never will.

Yet, his fears nagged at me – perhaps reigniting my own sense of the fragility of peace. I thought of the Ukrainians (and so many others in conflict situations) who found themselves in the space of a day scrapping their plans and focussing on survival.

What if that was me? Such situations force us to concentrate on the essentials in our lives. We are made to consider what really holds value and it is unlikely to be the things that advertisers are promoting. What follows are thought experiments to help us clarify what matters and what does not. Such exercises may simply reinforce what we already know or perhaps, they may guides us to new and more fulfilling lives. At the very least, I hope they will evoke an appreciation of the very blessed ones we have.

Pack your suitcase

Your train to safety leaves tomorrow. What would you take?

Most of us spend far too much time packing and unpacking our suitcases before a trip, agonising on whether we have the right shoes; the right amount of warm or cool weather clothing; sufficient clean underwear. More often than not, we return home with items folded and unused. But what if that suitcase had to contain everything that you hold dear? Would the designer sandals make the cut? I doubt it.

To be honest, very practical and durable clothing aside, my own case would be bursting with photos, my children’s pictures and jewellery of sentimental value. It would contain documentation to ease my passage through my new world. All I need, after all, are those things which cannot be replaced by Amazon. And all the stuff that fills my home may not be so valuable after all. Perhaps a declutter is in order.

Your last day

Sadly, all too many of us spend our days as if in penance. I over-heard an elderly chap in the park yesterday bemoaning that his life was effectively over. ‘My world is past,’ he said sadly, to which his companion rather wittily replied, ‘No, it’s not. You’re still living in it.’ I hope that he took that reply to heart.

When life is hard, as it is for so many, simply making it to bedtime can feel like an achievement. Yet, if we only had one day to say our good-byes, most of us would be galvanised into a flurry of action. We’d visit our friends and family; we’d take one final look at the places we loved and try to sear them into memory. Lassitude would be replaced with dynamism: indifference with appreciation. Since no-one can be certain how many days remain to us, surely we should never take any day for granted.

Memento mori

Throughout history, religions and philosophers have reminded us that it is in the nature of things that we must die. The expression memento mori – meaning remember you must die – is a Roman one, though the idea itself goes much further back.

On the surface, such an idea can seem depressing and so too do the images that usually symbolise it. Skulls and hour glasses and dead flowers are hardly likely to lift the spirits. However, the point of the memento mori is quite the opposite. It is a reminder to live life to the full.

The Greek Stoic philosopher, Seneca, wrote: 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.” Counter-intuitive though it seems, filling life with essentials gives us more time not less. If our tasks are completed each day, time becomes our friend and not our enemy. And if it is not possible to complete our tasks each day, perhaps it is time to assess how much must be done. Should you still feel that 24 hours is not enough, perhaps it is time to delegate.

Do what you love and love what you do

When we view each day with the urgency of one for whom it may be their last, we are likely to find that any time we waste or fret through, will quickly be jettisoned. We will focus only on what we love (hence the concept of the bucket list). No-one has complete the ironing or sort the downstairs cupboard on their agenda – at least, I hope not.

That said, many of us (especially our young selves) are not sure what we want to do/should do. I read a very brilliant thing recently where the author said, ‘Do not ask, what should I do? Look at what you are doing.’ Similarly, the lettering artist, Jessica Hische came up with the idea of procrastiworking – where you discover where your real interests lay when you observe what you do when procrastinating. (Though I doubt I can earn a living from doodling in the margins!)

Feel the fear and do it anyway

What prevents most of us doing what we love is, almost always, fear. Perhaps I won’t be successful; perhaps I won’t be able to make the rent or afford a holiday. Perhaps it will look foolish to others. Don’t get me wrong: I am not a great advocate of the ‘follow your dream’ advice, which in popular culture seems to omit the hard slog required to succeed in any sphere and rests solely on wishful thinking. We all have limitations and responsibilities. However, if we take the brief span we have to enjoy this planet seriously, we need spend no more than the absolute minimum on the essentials. And for those willing to make the necessary sacrifices for their passions, they are likely to be rewarded – if only in being able to live the life that they desire.

So here’s the challenge. Today you have been given the greatest gift – a voucher for 24 hours’ existence. How will you spend it?