Icarus laughed as he fell for he knew to fall meant to have once soared.
Art Of Being Here
Myth Of Enough
ed my hunger, n, my curiosity
The ferals are free, free from the world
Isn't it fascinating that even in the mediaeval times there existed a reminder urging people to live in the present instead of worrying about the future?
Carpe diem.
This Latin phrase, which literally means "pluck the day," was used by the Roman poet Horace to express the idea that we should enjoy life while we can It reminds us that life is fleeting and we should cherish the moments we are given.
Do we ever stop to acknowledge the life we are currently living, to be grateful for what we have, rather than anxiously running towards what may come next?
Across generations, people have been accustomed and conditioned to constantly plan, predict and prepare. We map timelines, set goals and chase the next milestone. But in doing so, we quietly drain the joy from the present The joy of simply existing The joy of giving little thought to the future. The joy of not knowing. And the joy of being here - now.
When we look back through history, we find countless examples of humans imagining what lies ahead. Flying cars, robots, alien invasion and endless fantasies - the future has always been a canvas for speculations. We cling to tomorrow because, at times, it's our only hope, the only thing that feels promising. We look forward to tomorrow because it offers the possibility of change.
But what about the present? What about now? What about this moment?
There is a strange comfort in the uncertainty. If today is difficult, tomorrow might bring relief. Every tomorrow is a little better than yesterday, but we fail and forget to notice the progress.
tomorrow isn't garanteed.
What will happen tomorrow is tomorrow to be dealt with What happens now is what we are here for. Tomorrow will take care of itself when it arrives. Right now is all we truly possess
because this is the moment that belongs to you.
This piece began with a small correction. Carpe diem is so often translated as "seize the day" but Horace's original Latin is closer to "pluck the day," the way you might pluck a ripe fruit before it falls. That image felt more honest. Not a conquest, but a quiet, deliberate act of noticing.
The piece follows a less philosophical argument and more a personal reckoning This is not a call to abandon ambition or ignore the future entirely. It is, rather, an invitation to pause
