Issue No. 84

Imagine this with me, not just as a fleeting thought, but as if it were reality, unfolding right now. Close your eyes and truly picture it. Let yourself feel the weight of it.

What if today was your last day? Maybe it’s an unexpected accident, a sudden illness—something beyond your control. It doesn’t matter how it happens, only that it does. The people you love are left behind, mourning. Your friends, your family, your acquaintances—they all gather. Some you’d kept close, others you’d drifted from, and a few you may not have thought of in years. They share stories about you, reflecting on the mark you left on their lives. Your parents see you one last time before the earth takes you, your body disappearing into the quiet finality of the ground.

The world, as it always does, keeps moving forward. Life presses on. People return to their homes. The sun sets without you, casting its warm light over a world where you no longer exist.

At the site of your grave, remnants of your life remain—a bouquet of flowers, heartfelt letters from those closest to you, photos capturing happier moments, tokens of love and memory. These things are left behind to honor you, but even they will fade with time. Slowly, the world forgets. The silence grows. The sky darkens, and you are no longer part of the story being written.

That’s it. That was you. That was all of it. Nothing more.

But now—imagine this. Imagine some unimaginable grace, a cosmic twist, grants you a second life. You wake up. You’re alive. You’ve been given another chance. This time, though, there’s a condition: this life is finite, with no ambiguity. When it ends, it ends for good. There will be no third chances, no coming back again.

So, what would you do with this second life? How differently would you live, knowing the clock is ticking? How fiercely would you pursue the things that make your heart race with excitement, joy, and fulfillment? How passionately would you love, laugh, explore, and embrace the fleeting beauty of existence? How far would you go to truly be alive, to cherish the moments that make up your days? Would you take more risks? Would you let go of grudges? Would you finally chase those dreams you’ve been too afraid to touch?

The Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius, a man who ruled over one of the most powerful empires in history, often reflected on death—not as a shadow to fear, but as a reminder to live fully. At the height of his power, with the world at his feet, he chose not to dwell on his conquests or riches, but on the fleeting nature of life itself. He saw death not as a thief, but as a companion, the ever-present force that gives life its urgency and meaning. Without death, there would be no drive to reach, to strive, to create, to love.

In his writings, he left us with these words:

Let that sink in for a moment. Think about what it means. When you imagined your second chance—your return from the grave—did it change how you see your life? Did it make you pause, even briefly, to feel gratitude for what you have now? That clarity you felt in imagining that second chance—that sense of urgency, that hunger to seize life—comes from the truth we all know deep down: we don’t get second chances. Time will always win. One day, it will win against you, too.

Some might find comfort in the hope of another life to come—a paradise or a reckoning, a continuation of the story. And maybe that’s true. Maybe there is more beyond this. But we cannot know for certain. What we do know, what we can hold in our hands, is this life. The one we are living right now. Instead of waiting for the next, why not honor the gift we’ve already been given? This life is miraculous, filled with love, dreams, and wonder. It is fragile, yes, but it is also limitless in its potential to make us feel truly alive.

What if we stopped living as though we were immortal? What if we embraced the fleeting nature of life, not as a tragedy, but as its greatest gift? Because that is the truth, whether we like it or not. We have one life, and the way we live it—fully, deeply, or shallowly, indifferently—is entirely up to us.

You have this moment. You have today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe many tomorrows, but one day, there will be no more. What will you do with the time you have left? How will you love? How will you leave your mark? Will you let the weight of what-ifs hold you back, or will you step forward and make the most of what you’ve been given?

This is your life. One life. And whether it’s long or short, whether it’s filled with triumphs or struggles, it’s the only one you have. Fill it. Fill it with love, passion, adventure, and purpose. Let every day be a celebration of this incredible, fleeting gift.

Because in the end, it’s not about how long our lives were. It’s about how deeply we lived them.

Until next week,