On Tulips and Hourglasses

You may or may not have heard that I've been working on adapting at least some principles of Stoicism to my life.  It appeals to me on all sorts of levels, even though it doesn't work 100% across the board.

But one of many things that does apply directly is the concept of "Memento Mori" which encapsulates one of the main viewpoints of Stoicism in general, and resonates with me specifically. It literally translates as "Remember Death" but is more accurately translated as "Remember You Must Die."  There's a lot to unpack there, and I have no intention of subjecting y'all to it unless you're just curious, but in the broadest possible terms, the concept is "You literally may be dead in the next moment. How important is this struggle you're having right now, really?"

Philippe de Champaigne's "Vanitas" (the painting above) is an expression of that. 

A tulip. A skull. An hourglass.  

A Short Life. A Long Death. Time.  

Or, as an old rough-hewn biker explained to me offhandedly one night as we were well into our cups, "You'd as well get used to eternity. You'll be spending practically all of it dead."  I don't remember what we were discussing, but this guy suddenly producing this little nugget could hardly have surprised me more if he'd expressed it in fluent Sanskrit while he was at it.  A solid guy, mind you, but deep thinking was never an apparent part of his resume, nor has it presented itself again since.

Anyhow, the tightly bound interrelationship between those elements (Life/Death/Eternity) throws into sharp relief how little practically anything else matters.

I carry this version of the painting with me everywhere (and have a version on my leathers):

I've been practicing. More than once I've walked away from something, or mentally dropped an issue by just stopping and getting some coffee or a cold drink, sitting down, and pulling this coin out of my pocket.  To be honest, there's no deep meditation or focus, no "magic" -- I just play with it, spinning it like a top, flipping it, or just rolling it between my fingers for a few minutes, and let it remind me of its truth. Sometimes -- more often lately, in fact -- simply rubbing it between my fingers in my pocket is enough; a physical talisman that reminds me of my mortality and the ultimate unimportance of most of the things immersing me. 

I'm always surprised at how quickly and completely what seemed serious things suddenly aren't.

Cool coin -- one of my favorite things.

In Our Next Episode: I shall complain bitterly about Novel In A Day (NiaD) which I've again signed up for and have to dive into tomorrow.  I shall NOT be whinging on about NaNoWriMo, as I'm NOT signed up for it this year. And we shall discuss how Game of Thrones has the best-looking nekkid people on TV, how that bangin' hot redhead on the series actually married Jon Snow in real life (bastard!) and how I was finally able to pass the series off as educational since one of the characters actually taught me how to pronounce "whinging."