Back in the days of ancient Rome, whenever there was a major military victory, it was a tradition to parade the general and his soldiers through the streets to celebrate their accomplishments. Throughout the procession, a servant was seated directly behind the general who would continuously repeat the phrase “Memento Mori” over and over. It was a reminder to him that although people were placing him on a pedestal and giving him accolades, he was but a man and was subjected to the limitations of mankind. The purpose of this custom was not only to keep the general humble but also to remind him of his mortality. Death waits for no man, not even the bold.

This past Thanksgiving, I decided on a whim to take a walk through the cemetery of my hometown. I took the time to read the names on the tombstones, the dates on which they died, and the epitaphs they left for the living. Some tombstones were decorated by loving family members, covered in flowers, memorabilia, and occasionally food and drink as a form of libation. Some of the dead were regular everyday people. Others were military men and women who died in either a World War or a more recent conflict such as Vietnam or Afghanistan. Some grew to a ripe old age, others died relatively early, and yet others didn't even make it to childhood or had died as stillborns.

Some of the people buried there I know personally. A very kind and sweet neighbor of mine that I’ve known for years was interred there with her infant daughter, both of their lives claimed by lung cancer. Another guy I knew went to the same high school I attended. He was tragically killed in a civil altercation with another man. I saw a tombstone for a guy I didn't know who passed away back in 2020. He was almost as old as I was!

These past few months, I've been making a concerted effort to clean up my life and find my purpose in this world. Part of that personal development includes discarding things that no longer serve me. As of now, I'm a pretty young dude; about mid-20s, and in fairly good health. If an online "death clock" is to be believed, I have about 60 or so years left before I kick the bucket. I might get 70, maybe even 80 years if I get lucky and stay healthy. However, there’s always a chance I could pass away much sooner. Who's to say I won't die in a car crash? Get diagnosed with terminal cancer? Covid? Food poisoning? Heart attack? Mass shooting? Heck, I could croak right after I publish this article for all I know!

As humans, we have a remarkably short lifespan. 60 years may not sound too bad, but time can pass rather quickly. Also, it's nothing compared to the incredible lifespan of our mother Earth, let alone the universe. 

Do I really want to spend that brief 60 years wasting my time on frivolous pursuits? Worse yet, do I want to spend that remaining time beating myself over the head about mistakes I've made in the past? Holding grudges when I could simply forgive?

It honestly astounds me how much time and energy people waste on activities that ultimately have no intrinsic value. I’ve seen people on social media endlessly argue with others whom they will never meet. All for what? Just to feed their superiority complex? To feel like they're fighting some holy war for the greater good? To what end? It's comical to think of someone on their deathbed thinking "man, I wish that I could’ve ratioed @MAGAfan446 so I could prove to him that he’s wrong. If only my Twitter account had reached 5M followers."

I also think of people who spend all of their time and effort amassing as much wealth and material possessions as they can, either through clambering up the corporate ladder, striking it big as an online personality, or getting involved in NFTs and crypto. Of course, there's nothing wrong with making a good living for yourself and I admire that type of ambition, but it all comes down to intent. Some of these people donate their money to worthwhile causes while others use it to buy lambos, lavish penthouses, and closets choc full of yeezys and Jordans, all while surrounding themselves with people who only care about their net worth. In the end, you can't take those material possessions with you to the grave. When you meet the Reaper face to face, all you have left to show is the type of person you've become and the impact you've left on the world and on other people.

In my own life, I've accrued many habits and hobbies that I now realize have no return of value. I used to play video games excessively, watch endless hours of garbage on YouTube, and mindlessly browse social media. As I've begun to reevaluate and prioritize the time I still have, many of those pastimes simply lost their luster. I hardly ever play video games anymore. I've recently given up YouTube and streaming to spend more time pursuing my passions (such as writing this blog!). As for quitting social media, that's quite another story. 

I've done more than just give up certain activities. I've also learned to forgive myself for the screwups I've made in the past and move on. I realize now that I'll get nowhere dwelling on the past when I can start living in the present. Every day I can wake up with joy, knowing that I can be a better person than I was the day before.

Cutting out all the BS in my life has genuinely been a liberating and refreshing experience. That's the power of Memento Mori: it helps you see the bigger picture and put your life into perspective. With that mindset, everything in your life either falls into place or falls away.

Reflecting on death and your own impermanence can be a very enlightening and instructive practice and is something I highly recommend. Indeed, many philosophers and saints, from Democritus to Moses, have often pondered on the inevitability of death and how it gives meaning to life. Many civilizations throughout history from the Egyptians to the Victorians have embedded the remembrance of death into their respective cultures.

In a day and age of deadly pandemics, rampant gun violence, and international warfare, ours is a generation that has become well acquainted with death. What's funny to me however is that death still remains a taboo subject in Western society, even after years of art, music, poetry, and literature regarding the subject. Perhaps it's simply human nature to shy away from the idea of dying. Maybe we suppose we're immune to the effects of death in an age of modern medicine, advanced technology, and widespread security. Perhaps once and a while we just need to take a leisurely stroll through a graveyard and remind ourselves as the ancient Romans once did:

Death waits for no man. Not even the bold.