Lake Bonneville

About 20 million years ago, my house would have been about 200 feet underwater. Most of my state was covered in a freshwater sea, which we now call Lake Bonneville. This archaic lake has been a lifelong fascination for me as I think about the creatures, the former tenants of this now arid high desert. Our world changes constantly, and it’s a beautiful, awe-inspiring process. Some changes are dramatic. Antarctica, for example, was a dense rain Forest at one point in history: the Blue Ridge mountains were once granite peaks that soared into the air like The Rockies do today. All of these occurred before we even came into the picture. It all happened millions of years before our most ancient ancestors roamed the Earth. We have been on Earth for a relatively short time; our species is young compared to many other creatures that call Earth home. We humans and our short life spans are just an infinitesimally small hash mark on the timeline of this planet.

Now, let us think on a personal level. Take a moment to reflect on how much has changed in your lifetime, or better yet, how much has changed in the last 10 years or even 10 months. The sheer number of things that change in our lives almost daily is mind-boggling, and it’s a powerful exercise in self-awareness. 

When I was born in 1983, our entire family on both sides lived in and around the same city. I had the privilege of having all four of my grandparents alive and a huge part of my childhood. Not only my direct relatives but their parents. I got to know them all on some level. I am 40 years old, and almost all of them are gone. If we were to return to Draper, it would not be apparent that the Rowleys, the Tunbridges, or the Bellons were there. All those years, lifetimes, stories of hardship, and joy are reduced to the memories left in those still living. Forty years ago, none of us imagined a world where these people did not exist, yet here we are. Just as the ancient Lake Bonneville fauna could not imagine my world now, the time range is immensely more vast, yet the concept is the same.

A few years ago, I was going through a hard time in my life; for me, it was way too much change at one time; my world was yanked out from under my feet, not in a matter of decades as I had experienced before but in a matter of a couple of years. I will not try to claim that my troubles were any worse than anyone else’s. I acknowledge that I have a very blessed life, but for my little world, it was a category 4 hurricane, and the damage was immense and unprecedented. During this time, I learned to love the Latin phrase memento mori. Those two words have a lot packed into them. They remind me each day that this could be my last; my entire world, life, and all I have ever known could change in a second. In the very next heartbeat, I could leave this life. Keeping this in mind, how will I choose to spend my time? How am I going to make sure that if I did die right now, I would have no regrets?

This is not a new concept, nor is it uniquely contemplated by me or any other follower of stoic philosophy. For most of my life, I thought I was living and working for what came next. My thinking was shaped around what I used to call eternal perspective, the idea that what I was going through was only temporary, a trial to prepare for my next sojourn. This concept was overwhelming for my simple mind. It would fill me with so much anxiety, just wondering if even the simplest of choices I was making would send me careening down the trail I was not meant to be on. I have since learned the importance of living in the present and of making choices as they come up. I, of course, am not perfect at doing this, but the necklace I wear with a skull on one side and the words “memento mori”  And “memento vivre” on the other are a constant reminder for me. A daily, even moment-to-moment physical manifestation of my internal philosophical view of life.

Find a reminder for yourself, a reminder that everything changes. As cliché as it sounds, the only fundamental constant in life is that nothing stays the same. I am a different person than I was even yesterday, and so are you. 

Life is beautiful; the mere fact that you and I exist is a miracle; the mathematical statistics would say the cards are stacked against us even being born. So make the most of your life. Whatever that may be. My grandpa Rowley was a church custodian; every time I visited him while working, he whistled some old show tune from the 40’s or sang one of his favorite church hymns. Sometimes, he even sang a song he had just made up about me or someone in our family (a tradition Dad and I still continue.) One of these I remember clearly is, “There is sunshine in my soul today.” Now, I am not suggesting that he was a perfect example of making the most of life, but we all have areas where we excel, and he was very good at being happy most of the time. We all know people like this; what do they have that we do not? A different attitude, that is all. We really can make the most of even our worst days. Mitch Albome, in the book Tuesdays with Morrie, speaks of his friend and former professor who has been given a fatal diagnosis. It is a real story from Mitch’s life; he slowly watched the life drain from someone he loved very much, and the story made a big enough impact on his life that he shared with the world. I thank god that he did; it is an extraordinary tale. Despite the obstacles, he made his life count; he did not sit around and feel sorry for himself until he died. He knew his time was fleeting, and he embraced that reality. He did not Do this to be morbid or obsessed with his own mortality; he embraced this truth so that in everything he did, he would remember that this could be the last.

Epictetus, the Greek philosopher, encourages us to imagine those we love being taken from us daily; on the surface, this is depressing, but if given some thought, we realize that by doing this, we remember the temporary nature of this life. Moreover, like a vacation, when we arrive at the final week or days, we know it will end, and we dread it, so we enjoy it while it lasts. We can make the most of our time with our dear ones. Regardless of your beliefs or mine about the afterlife, we know this one will end; the world will keep changing, and in 20 million or so years, our existence will be erased, just like Lake Bonneville. So pull your boots on, straighten your hat, and make today great.