Seize the Day

In a current events forum I frequent, I noticed a signature line: “Carpe Diem [Latin for “Seize the Day”]—It may be the only one you’ve got.” The writer intended it as a comment on the current state of world affairs, as a caution that because our world seems such a powder keg, we had better make the most of today.

I know that in certain circles, it’s popular to suggest that you should avoid the news, given its typically distressing nature, and focus instead on thoughts of a positive bent. I’m all in favor of focusing on life’s goodness, and firmly believe that it far outweighs the bad. But personally, I prefer to know what’s happening around the planet, whether the news is scary or not, and even when it sometimes breaks my heart.

For me, keeping tabs on world events is a matter of satisfying my curiosity about the nature of outer reality. It’s engagement with the world and part of the stewardship of citizenship. Even when reading it suggests to me that the whole human race is galloping headlong toward cataclysmic disaster, I’m happier knowing the context in which I live than I would be not knowing. I figure I can’t be part of the solution unless I have some understanding of the problem, after all.

But getting back to that signature line, “Carpe Diem” has been worthy advice since a poet named Horace first penned the words over 2,000 years ago. The rest of the sentence that begins with those words is “and put no trust in tomorrow.”

Of course we all do put trust in tomorrow. Trusting in tomorrow is what lets us dream and hope and plan; it’s what gives meaning to many of the activities we invest ourselves in today.

Nevertheless, tomorrow is an iffy kind of thing, even in the best of times. And while we’d like to believe it will unfold more or less according to our expectations, that’s never a certainty. The advice to grab hold of today is recognition of that fact. “Carpe Diem” is a spirited reminder that today—in fact, this moment—is the only day we know we have. It’s meant to be grabbed with eager attention and lived with vigor and zest. And if we squander all its moments living for, or dreading, our tomorrows, we miss the riches it holds for us to enjoy.

It’s a reminder to be aware of those things that bring you happiness and satisfaction, and to take time to savor them in the here and now. It’s a reminder to smell the roses, to appreciate good company, to feel gratitude for the things that comfort and challenge and strengthen and uplift us. That’s how we make memories worth reliving, after all, and how we give our lives meaning and flavor and joy.

“Carpe Diem.” It’s a bit of happiness-counsel worth heading. Put it on a sticky note somewhere that you’ll see it and when you do, take a moment to live its advice.

Wishing you days of vibrant joy.

Warmly,
Susan

Image by Jan Alexander from Pixabay

Somewhere in the World

Somewhere in the world,
bright flowers are blooming.
Somewhere, the sun is shining down.
Lovers are embracing somewhere and
children are dreaming in their mother’s arms.
Somewhere, great music is playing
and songs are being sung. Someone
is climbing a mountain, someone
is offering prayer. Somewhere,
friends are breaking bread and weaving
memories. Somewhere, butterflies
float and colored birds take wing.
Somewhere stars are glittering
in a velvet sky. And everywhere,
always, the Great Yes unfolds
in waves of limitless love.

Published
Categorized as Summer 2023

When Storms Loom

When storms loom, remember
to stay rooted in the now,
loving all who surround you,
bringing them into the comfort of your calm,
into the reach of your heart’s trusting song,
the serenity and light of your smile.
Do what the moment requests of you,
whether that be patience or strength,
whether firmness or flexibility.
Count your current blessings.
You are here.
Let the wonder of that sustain you,
though there be storms.

Published
Categorized as Summer 2023

Some Love

All love goes beyond words.  
Some of it’s so deep you can’t even think it,
only feel it in your heart.  
And then there’s the love that’s made of
all the bits and crumbs of love that ever were.
Why, it’s so big that all it can do is paint itself
all over everything, right before your very eyes.

Published
Categorized as Summer 2023

Reminders of Grace

Regardless of how things may seem,
regardless of confusion, conflict and pain,
always there is that which is pure
and simple and singing with joy,
that which gives balance
and the assurance of grace.
Go about your day, then, with gladness.
These blossoms are reminders
that we’re all dearly loved.
Even me, even you.

Published
Categorized as Summer 2023

Painting on the Rocks

The leaves tumble down to the creek‘s floor
like careless drops from the brush of an unseen artist.
Splattering the rocks with autumn rainbow hues,
they and the creek make a painting of their own.
But this is no accident. There’s nothing careless here.
It took eons to produce this scene, time beyond measure.
All for this moment, this one breath of a day,
when the light and the breeze were just so,
and it was early September.

Published
Categorized as Summer 2023

Choices

One by one, the leaves decide.
Who will go first? Who will hang on?
Who will be the last to go?
Already some cannot resist
the chance to fly, to ride the wind
free of any restraint, to sail birdlike
on wings of air. Most wait,
savoring the familiar view, savoring
its changes. There is no right or wrong.
Time signals each one when to fly.
And time, the bubbling creek says,
has a way of doing things
in exactly the perfect order.

Published
Categorized as Summer 2023

The Most Important Thing

I was doing a little reorganizing this week and ran across some old notes about an interview I’d heard with Neale David Walsh, author of the Conversations with God series that was so popular a few years ago. He had just released a fourth book, Awaken the Species, and he was talking about some of the main concepts it covers.

In case you’re not familiar with the Conversations series, or not even vaguely interested in reading what somebody says about God, you may find it intriguing that the first point the voice that Walsh identifies as “God” had to make was “You’ve got me all wrong.”

As Walsh pointed out in the interview, even if you’ve dismissed the idea of the existence of God entirely, if that sentence has even a smidgeon of truth to it, it suggests that you might want to ask yourself what you do believe about the possibility and nature of an infinitely conscious Supreme Being. (Maybe, for example, you picture God as the source of the code that makes up the matrix of existence.)

That suggestion—about questioning beliefs—reminded me of one of the most challenging and valuable assignments I was ever given in college. It was the final exam in a course called “American Thought and Language,” which covered significant (and often opposing) concepts that had arisen in the country since the time prior to the Revolution up to the present. The assignment was to write an essay entitled “I Believe,” in which we were to discuss a few of our own personal beliefs and give our reasons for holding them.

Every now and then, I assign that essay to myself again, just to take a look at the beliefs I hold now and to examine them. You’d be surprised how interesting that can be – and fun! It’s very revealing.

But that’s not the main thought that I brought away from that Walsh interview. The idea that struck me most deeply was one Walsh shared when the host asked him what was the biggest piece of advice he could give people, based on his latest book. Walsh said he would tell people what he was told was the most important thing: “Your life isn’t about you. It has nothing to do with you. It’s about everyone whose life you touch and the way in which you touch it.”

Think about the implications of that thought. Imagine what it would be like if each of us asked, “How can I help? What can I do to make your life easier, more comfortable, more peaceful, more pleasant?” What if we looked for ways we could give encouragement to each other? If we set out to make the environment a healthier, more beautiful place? If we listened to each other more? If we looked more into each other’s eyes? If we looked for ways to ease another’s burden or to alleviate some of their stress? If we did our jobs knowing that we were contributing, in however small a way, to the well-being of others and took joy in that?

So that’s the thought I leave with you this week, the message that it’s all about every life we touch and how we touch it.

I wish you the insight to see what’s needed, and the generosity of spirit to give as only you can.

Warmly,
Susan

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Noon on the Western Slope

It’s going on noon on the first day of September
when I decide to climb the western slope of the south hill.
It smells of advancing autumn and the summer’s sea of ferns
is but froth on the shore after the waves have spent their force
and washed away. Here and there, a fallen leaf dots the ground.
And the fallen branches, gifts from the winds, are plentiful
and easy to see, now that the foliage has melted into the soil.
I will be roaming here again soon, gathering them to serve
as fuel for my winter fires. But today I am here just to see
what there is to see as the world ushers in September.

Published
Categorized as Summer 2023

Suddenly, September

Suddenly, September plunks herself down in the meadow.
She spills Queen Anne’s Lace and goldenrod everywhere.
It’s not that she was unexpected, but I had pushed her
way over there in my mind since she signals the advent
of the cold half of the year. Now here I am, knee deep
in late summer wildflowers, glad despite myself,
the child in me dancing giddily to the shrill sawing
of ten thousand crickets and handsome insects
everywhere, feasting. “It’s another whole corner of heaven!”
the dancing child shouts, and my wrinkled face smiles.

Published
Categorized as Summer 2023