Dappled evening sunlight filters through green trees on a midsummer evening. It plays over aged stonework as I walk past the stones, succumbing to the reflective mood which so often accompanies such surroundings. Two thoughts strike me, both in opposition. One is that some day a stone such as this will more than likely bear my name, a lasting memorial to my time on earth. I will be remembered, my actions or lack thereof will leave a legacy and so I must be mindful of them. The second thought comes to me as my gaze falls upon those crumbling monuments, the ones that nobody cares about, from the faces of which the names have begun to fade. I realize that, in time, all the stones will look like this, crumbling, decaying, slowly being reclaimed by the natural world around them. I will not be remembered, my actions or lack thereof will leave no lasting legacy.
Strangely it is this second thought which is truly liberating. If I will not be remembered much past this life then it is, surely, my duty to then live. Truly live in this life. I must seize my existence with both hands, savour every moment, every day, every hour, every second.
Existence is precious and fleeting.