This One Precious Day

On presence, finitude, and the quiet cost of living for tomorrow

I have an analytical mind. I like to understand things. I crunch numbers, weigh tradeoffs, and look for optimal decisions. In the name of growth and self improvement, I read a lot of books. Many of them focus on values and vision, which quickly leads me into questions of ethics, morals, and stewardship.

Actions have consequences. For myself. For others. For the world.

Somewhere along the way, I realized something uncomfortable. I spend a lot of time thinking about how I will affect the world around me, and not nearly enough time noticing how I am affecting myself.

I get caught living out there.
And I forget about in here.

Pause for a second.

Each day on Earth has 24 hours.
1,440 minutes.
86,400 seconds.

A full day arrives, whether I notice it or not.

Each day brings time to watch the sun rise over the hill. To enjoy the first savory bite of a warm bowl of quinoa and apples, dusted with cinnamon. To feel the breeze on your face. To smell tea brewing in the morning. To breathe deeply before reacting to the world around you.

How often do you really appreciate that?

For me, those moments can be few and far between.

Get ready for work.
Prepare for the next patient.
Get ready for tomorrow.
Double check the list. Emails sent. Groceries planned. Loose ends tied.

What do these all have in common?

They are not now. They live in the future.

And in preparing, optimizing, and striving for the best possible future, I miss the world going by. The moment to make eye contact with my partner. To notice the cat looking for a snuggle and an ear scratch. To text a friend I have not connected with in a while.

Damn. It goes fast.

For me, so much of this is an attempt to create safety. To be prepared. To be comfortable. To be self sufficient. All worthy goals. All intended to minimize pain, suffering, and misery. All in service of finding joy, contentment, and happiness.

But what if suffering is not caused only by pain?

What percentage of your suffering comes from living as though today is merely a means to another day? A stepping stone to tomorrow?

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote,
“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said,
“As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.”

Be yourself.
Trust yourself.
Let go of the need to earn the right to exist. Now. Right now.

Stop with me for a minute.

Look up from the page.
Engage at least three senses.

What can you smell?
What can you hear?
What can you see?

Take a deep breath. Fill your lungs.
Bring a subtle smile to your face.
Breathe again.

How do you feel?

For me, worries often arise. Anxiety. Issues that need resolving. Plans that need making. Problems that want attention.

Oliver Burkeman, in Four Thousand Weeks, writes about finitude. The reality that you are limited. That this limitation is central to being human. One day will be your last, and it will likely arrive with unfinished business still on your list.

The work is never done.
It should not be.

Otherwise, the journey would already be over.

And so the question stands.

How would you like to spend this one precious day?

I have heard the word ontological tossed around for years and never bothered to look it up. It turns out it asks a simple and powerful question.

How will I exist in the world today, given that this day will pass no matter what I do?

A bonus question, just as important.

How will I exist in the world today, given that my to do list will continue to grow no matter what I do?

For me, the insight is not that planning, worrying, or organizing are wrong. They are often necessary. They are often useful.

The problem is that they creep. Slowly. Quietly. Until living becomes something postponed.

And when that happens, something subtle is lost.

Not productivity.
Not achievement.

Presence.
Joy.
The feeling of being here for the life that is already happening.

The work will still be there tomorrow. The list will still grow. That is not a failure. That is simply what it means to be alive.

So the question is not how to finish everything.

The question is simpler.

How would you like to spend this one precious day?