Call meJeffrey

The new year always seems odd because it’s the one time per year that most people spend time thinking about how their lives can be better. The resolution. I’m going to quit smoking. I’m going to get in shape. I’m going to spend more time with my family. What is it about the rest of the year that makes people so blissfully ignorant of themselves? The new year is a reminder that time is indeed running out. It’s the yearly motivator that gets people really inspired to change. That is, until February when the inspiration runs out, and they’re smoking, eating a Whopper for breakfast and still not calling their mother.

This all seems very odd to me, because I’m the type of person who thinks about dying all the time. I’m not a particularly morbid person (beyond my love for death metal and horror movies), and I’m not the type of person who worries about dying. I simply tend to be constantly aware that death will happen. It’s a natural part of the life cycle. It’s also nothing to be afraid of. For this reason, I’m incredibly interested in things related to the Memento Mori, which translated from Latin roughly means “remember death” or “remember that you will die.” Sure it’s a touch macabre, but if you peel back the darkness what you’ll find a reminder to seize all opportunities, and live each day to its fullest. Memento Mori is a daily affirmation, as opposed to a New Year’s resolution which is an annual pipe-dream.

I got to thinking about this because I was talking to an old friend that I recently reconnected with and the topic of my tattoos came up. The question was “so, what’s the story behind your arms?” Here’s the story, but first a quick flash of context. In 2001 I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis, and spent 3 weeks in the hospital, and I almost died. It’s a funny thing about almost dying. It really puts things into perspective. It was after that experience that I became accutely aware of my mortality and thus obsessed with the idea of Memento Mori.

Anyway, the story: on my right arm I there’s two children playing in a field, one is flying a kite with a skull and crossbones on it, and the other is chasing a leaf. There’s a small sapling tree in the foreground and it’s dawn. Flying above the scene is a giant winged hourglass, with all the sand at the top. On my other arm is the same scene, only the tree is huge and old – twisted and leafless. There’s two gravestones next to the tree and it’s dusk. The hourglass has broken wings, and the sand is pouring out of the broken bottom of the hourglass onto the gravestones. As a quick lesson in Memento Mori imagery, a winged hourglass symbolizes the flight of time, and it’s usually paired with a scythe to symbolize the certainty of death. I opted to keep the scythe out.

The tattoo was inspired by the line “all that breathe will share thy destiny” from William Cullen Bryant’s poem “Thanatopsis”, which is a beautiful poem which in a nutshell, talks about the idea that there should be more comfort in death because there’s more souls there than that of on the side of the living. I’m not religious in the least, but I think that idea has it’s share of romance. It’s my reminder that today is the day.

That brings us back to New Years Eve. People need to cut out this resolution bullshit. Lives are lived one day at a time, not one year at a time. No one says “I know you had a bad day, but don’t worry – next year will be better.” So this year, please – ignore the pre-programmed desire to resolve to do something for next year. Just do it now. Know you need to quit smoking? NOW is the time. Not tomorrow. NOW. Resolutions are road maps for procrastinators. 2009 has 365 “todays”, but only 1 “next year”. Take advantage.