(Ofu island - east of here)For some reasons, that I cannot explain since I have no clue myself, I have been thinking about the meaning of life recently. I am happy in this little island, in this little bubble of nonsense isolated by the rest of the world by thousands of miles of open deep blue water.
The connections with the rest of the world are so negligible (twice a week with the Hawaiian Airline plane, and throughout the day mainly via internet) that you think “well, the rest of the world can go crazy, but it will definitely take a while before it reaches me here” (without considering, of course, more global events like global warning, sea level rise, or tsunami risk…)
But then, one day on the BBC-news webpage you read about cyclones in Burma and earthquakes in China, about Bush and Berlusconi (what! again!!??!!), about the Amazon forest and about Australian beer, and you think: “Why all this?” And “What am I doing here?”
I reached the following conclusion: I do not know what the meaning of life is, and more specifically, why does life have to have a meaning to start with? Can’t we just take the way it comes? On my opinion, is not that important WHERE we are going, because after all we all know, death and taxes are the only secure things on life, right?
To me, it is more important HOW you go to the end of your life. Can’t we just enjoy by the day, remembering that your own freedom ends where somebody else freedom starts (live and let live, mainly), and do things that makes us happy as long as it does not make somebody else unhappy?
Moreover, I do not really care about the meaning of life, I rather care about the meaning of MY life. I want to do good, leave something useful behind. I feel that down here I am doing something good; not only, I am also enjoying life (well, if it wasn’t for those stupid roosters that, seems to me, like to call my name any time during the night), but I am also learning a lot and improving myself. I do not need to reach “greatness” over night, I can find it day by day (I am thinking about Shakespeare quote here: “Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”).
Every year I feel more completed, more mature and more serene. And who knows, maybe one day you will all learn something good from me. I cannot make the world a more righteous one, but I can act correctly myself, and spread the good humor!
And when I am deep in shit (because it happens to me too, apparently all in the same time too!), I can only look at the future and think that this won’t last forever, and learn from mistakes and misadventures. And if I have to die tomorrow, oh well, at least I did enjoy my days!!! As Brian of Nazareth said “Always look at the bright side of life, tu-tu, tututtu-tu-tu’”…
I will end this post with Horace (Horatio)’s “Carpe Diem” that has been idealized for a long time, as romantic, inspirational etc… but that was in reality written to his loved one, Leucona, with the following message: “don’t worry about tomorrow, you don’t know if you will die. Instead of worrying, you should just enjoy life and come to bed and sleep with me today!” (My latin/greek teacher was really firm on this interpretation was many many many reasons I cannot recall at the moment). And YES, men were that romantic and wanted the same things as today’s men even 2000 years ago (2021 to be more exact)…
….going back to the original subject… so, what is the meaning of life? What is what men have been seeking since the very dawn of humanity? Comments welcome!!!
Tu ne quaesieris (scire nefas), quem mihi, quem tibi
finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios
temptaris numeros. Ut melius, quidquid erit, pati!
Seu pluris hiemes, seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,
quae nunc opposites debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum: sapias, vina liques et spatio brevi
spem longam reseces. Dum loquimur, fugerit invida
aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.
Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Translated, more or less:
“Do not ask, brings bad luck, what end the gods will give me or you, Leucona, and do not try (to read the future with) the Babylonian dices. Better just deal with whatever comes your way (me, me me!!!).
Whether Zeus has allowed you many winters or this is your last one, with opposing rocks in the Tyrrhenian sea (mainly, you boat is going to hit one and sink): be smart, POUR the wine, scale back your long hopes. As we speak the envious time is running away from us: take the day (and sleep with me), trust the future as little as possible".
Horace (the 5th and the skinny one)
1 comment:
Well played Italian. I agree.
Kurt Vonnegut is a hero of mine. Here's his take:
I work at home, and if I wanted to, I could have a computer right by my bed,and I'd never have to leave it. But I use a typewriter, and afterward I mark up the pages with a pencil. Then I call up a woman named Carol out in Woodstock and say, "Are you still doing typing?" Sure she is, and her husband is trying to track bluebirds out there and not having much luck,and so we chitchat back and forth, and I say, "Okay, I'll send you the pages." Then I go downstairs and my wife calls, "Where are you going?" "Well," I say, "I'm going out to by an envelope." And she says, "You're not a poor man. Why don't you buy a thousand envelopes? They'll deliver them, and you can put them in the closet and get one whenever you want."
And I say, "Hush." So I go to the newsstand across the street where they sell magazines and lottery tickets and stationery. I have to get in line because there are people buying candy and all that sort of thing, and I talk
to them. The woman behind the counter has a jewel between her eyes, and when it's my turn, I ask her if there have been any big winners lately. I get my envelope and put the pages in it and seal it up and go to the postal
convenience center down the block at the corner of Forty-Seventh Street and Second Avenue, where I'm secretly in love with the woman behind the counter.
I keep absolutely poker-faced; I never let her know how I feel about her.
One time I had my pocket picked in there and I got to meet a cop and tell him about it. Anyway, I address the envelope and mail it in a mailbox in front of the post office, and I go home. And I've had a hell of a good time.
I tell you, we are here on earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you any different.
His son said this: “We are here to help each other get through this thing, whatever it is.”
Post a Comment