On: your last day

This morning, I was reading from “The Tao of Seneca,” a collection of letters stoic philosopher Seneca wrote to his friend Lucilius.

In this letter Seneca writes that every day, we should go to sleep with gladness and joy.

He adds: “Before we go to sleep, we should say: ‘I have lived; the course which fortune set for me is finished.’”

Therefore, if God is pleased to add another day, we should welcome it with glad hearts.

In my life, the thing I cherish the most is the time I get to spend with my family: my little girl and my wife.

Every single morning, I get my daughter ready for school.

I brush her teeth, wash her face, style her hair, and dress her well to the best of my ability.

Then I serve her breakfast.

I have made it a commitment to:

-Not wake her up until she is ready to wake up, as much as the circumstances allow (sometimes I have to travel early for work).

-Never rush her or let myself be angry or frustrated when she is moving slow or taking more time than I expect is enough to do what’s asked.

-Serve her anything she wishes to eat or drink that morning — we have mostly gotten her used to a few options and she usually chooses from those. (Sometimes she doesn’t want to eat at all, and that’s fine)

Why am I saying this?

It’s because I try to make the best out of the first morning hour that my daughter and myself get to spend with each other, for it is only foolish for men to think that they will always have another hour, another day, or another year to cherish that which was given to them temporarily.

Because that’s what life is: a brief time in the grandness of infinity that which the greatest good and the highest truth has lent to us.

Be it myself or my daughter, none of us knows if we will get to see each other alive at the end of the work day for myself, or the school day for her.

I invite you to meditate on this today or the next morning you get to wake up: live every day as if it was your last, and be grateful if you get another one.