I’m reading on the Shortness of Life, part of the Penguin Great Ideas Series. I’ve come to this conclusion: I am a procrastinator. In truth, I already knew this but I wasn’t aware of the way it was shaping, more like deconstructing, my life. Worse still, my mind is an electrical storm of new ideas which never ceases. My ideas are greater in number than the days I have walked this Earth. I am going to change this. These ideas must materialize into something because I’m running out of room for them. I am forever tripping over my own thoughts. But I am going to change this. I have to.
Seneca puts it very nicely:
No one will bring back the years; no one will restore you to yourself. Life will follow the path it began to take, and will neither reverse nor check its course. It will cause no commotion to remind you of its swiftness, but glide on quietly. It will not lengthen itself for a king's command or a people's favour. As it started out on its first day, so it will run on, nowhere pausing or turning aside. What will be the outcome? You have been preoccupied while life hastens on. Meanwhile death will arrive, and you have no choice in making yourself available for that.
...putting things off is the biggest waste of life: it snatches away each day as it comes, and denies us the present by promising the future... You are arranging what lies in Fortune's control, and abandoning what lies in yours. What are you looking at?... The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately.
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