Now How, Exactly, Do We Carpe Diem?

On being mortal, and milking it for all its worth

I find there are two types of people in the world:

Those who are constantly aware of the fact that they will die,

and those who rarely think about it.

I’ve always been the former. Looking back, perhaps it was odd to be an eight-year-old girl watching The Dead Poets Society and leaning in to Robin Williams’ words, my head bobbing along in somber agreement that yes, we must gather our rosebuds while we may, and yes, we should carpe diem. His rhetoric seemed perfectly logical; if we’re going to die, we might as well really live first. My mortality was at the forefront of my consciousness, and I knew I didn’t want to waste this one dazzling shot at being human.

Moses—the man of God—echoes this sentiment in Psalm 90:12: “So teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

In other words, it’s wise to be conscious of the fact that we’re mere mortals. And there is something to be said for understanding that we will—as Robin Williams puts it—one day stop breathing, turn cold, and die.

Once we’ve got a firm handle on the fact that we’re finite, it’s natural to want to know how to make the most of what we’ve got. The real question that follows, then, isn’t really if we should carpe diem, but rather… how?

Over the years, my understanding of what this looks like has shifted, evolved, and metamorphosed. It’s led me down all sorts of interesting paths, including living in Spain, riding a mechanical bull, and eating hundreds of bagels slathered in cream cheese. It has also driven me into chronic over-achievement, frequent feelings of burnout, and the occasional existential crisis.

This week marks just about a year since I left my job as a teacher. When I made the decision last June to walk away from that career I had loved to write full-time instead, it was because, at the heart of things, I heard a voice (not unlike Williams’ whispers) saying, “Your life is passing you by, Deidre, and you’re not seizing what matters.” I had just watched how cancer could rip through a life with zero regard for fairness. I could feel my own mortality, delicate and wispy as a roadside flower, trembling with nervous energy and promising no certain amount of years, no entitlement to longevity or closure.

So, I did the thing that I rarely allow myself to do: I quit.

Since then, I’ve been trying to work out the answer to how, exactly, we carpe the diem. I’ve been wondering about what matters to God, what matters to the world, and what should matter to us. I’ve been wanting to be honest with you about the reality of following dreams and how it’s scary and uncertain as all get out and whether or not I think it’s worth it anyway. I’ve wanted to find out if there are truly different ways of life available to all of us, if only we are brave enough to step onto the exposed tightrope of a different trajectory.