It's about time
Tempus Edax Rerum — Ovid
As I'm writing these sentences, my wife is in the 40th week of her pregnancy, and we are waiting for our first child and daughter, Helena (yes, I wanted an ancient epic name).
The quote that recently resonated a lot with me was this one from McDonald's I read in Vitaliy Katsenelson's book "Soul in the Game":
"One day you ordered a Happy Meal for the last time, and you didn't even know it."
The chapter of the book is called The Last Time. And its essence and message is the Stoic philosophy of living in the moment, to be present, because this can be the last time you could be enjoying it.
Yesterday, after doing a check-up at the hospital, we went with my wife to have some merienda (the Argentinian name for tea time), with a flat white and some medialunas (the Argentinian take on croissants).
At that moment, I realized that could be our last merienda in a nice coffee shop with our daughter still in her belly. Thinking about this, my direct response was to put my cellphone in my pocket and just be fully there, enjoying that time.
But that McDonald's original quote is not only about being in the present. It's about how things can have a huge turnaround without you expecting them.
One day you will have or practice your last X (something you enjoy) without realizing it was the last time. And the last time shouldn't be defined by a negative event. In our case, it would be because our next merienda we will be with our daughter in our arms (or stroller).
The point is that time moves forward. There is no way to make it go backwards. Cronus devours anything and everything without you expecting him.
Even if you had a time machine, you could go back contextually to that point in time, but you would still be you. That's why I sometimes wish I could feel as I felt when I was reading a specific book for the first time (yes, I'm looking at you, "Antifragile").
Reading a book for the first time will be the last time (as the first time) you read it. Any next rereading will be built on top of the first time. The emotions you felt for the first time are forever lost.
But going back to Cronus, time, the unexpected, is always hunting. He will be waiting for the next prey and suddenly, without you noticing it, taking away that last (or first in the case of books) moment from you.
However, as he devours something you lost, a space now gets opened in your life to fill it with something new.
The only way to have the last (pun intended) laugh with him, to be able to say I won, is to embrace the unexpected. That the changes that impact you dearly impact you positively (or at least with zero effect).
This leads me to the last (but never the last time I think about) idea of eternal recurrence. The Nietzschean idea of making a pact with the devil so you can eternally repeat living your life. Every single moment of it, with its bad moments and good ones.
The essence of this thought experiment is to live without regrets. That on each decision you have to make, take the path that if you have to live again, you would still choose it.
The Stoic way is to enjoy the present because you won't have it back, and you won't know which moment will be your last. The robust way is to live it, enjoy it. But never look back. Never feel nostalgic. Never have regrets.
The Sage, the Antifragile, lives in the present fully, but embraces the unexpected as new opportunities can emerge. Laughing at Cronus and at his Nitzchean representation, the Sage is prepared for any negative outcome, the future can only positively surprise him (or her).
I don't know what the unexpected would be (thankfully I don't have Cassandras's powers). But I can say confidently that our next meriendas, lunches and dinners will bring new joys.
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This essay was written two weeks before Helena was born. Thankfully, she was born healthy. Now that she's 2 months old, I can't help but smile from ear to ear whenever I see her smile. The future is highly uncertain, but I can still choose to live my life again, if I had to.