Carpe Diem

In the wise words of the best teacher in the world—otherwise known as Mr. Keating of Dead Poets Society—“Seize the day boys… seize the day. Make your lives extraordinary.”

We tend to throw around this phrase in the context of making impulsive, uninhibited decisions in the spirit of living in the present. It inspires us to cherish every moment and take life minute by minute, surrendering our need for total control or a detailed agenda. But there’s a distinction between recklessness and seizing the day, living life, living deliberately.

Because taking carpe diem to an extent that puts your life and well-being (or that of others) in jeopardy is misusing our privilege and responsibility to live. Ultimately, freedom does not entail the boundless permission to do anything and everything. I would argue that true liberty is the ability to live according to the way we were meant to; only within our calling do we find ultimate rest, when our soul dwells where its Creator purposed it to.

Within those bounds, seize the day. As the high schooler who plans out her whole future in her free time, I implore you: seize the day. I’ve had my fair share of panic when it comes to life not playing out in the way I expected it to. I overanalyze my decisions and, as a result, often forget to actually take action. In the simplest terms? I am a control freak.

But the more I have intentionally prioritized living in the present, the more I have learned to experience life moment by moment. Do not let your daily planner, bullet journal, or productive morning routine cost you your freedom. Yes, my fellow planners, you read that right. I’m not telling you to throw away your calendar and show up late to school in the name of carpe diem. What I am saying is it may be necessary for you to retrain yourself how to use your 5 senses and stop spending so much time in your head. 

Last week, when the temperatures rose and the sun shone through the clouds, I decided on a whim to head to the park and work on my homework outside. Did I work as diligently as planned? No, but the sunset was beautiful, and I thought it would be silly of me not to take a few moments and breathe it in. 

Agree to hang out with a friend last-minute. Lay in the deep, biting snow and look at the moon. Stargaze on your suburban porch; perhaps you’ll see a shooting star. Get in the car and drive somewhere pretty.

I also want to backpack around Europe when I’m in college. So I’m going to do it. And I’m determined to leave a large portion of that trip unplanned. 

Speaking of college, I have kept myself awake long into the night researching different schools and their majors and their academic status. Not to mention the career paths I could follow with those majors. But you know what happened when I realized I was in over my head and allowed myself to relax a little? Bliss. Pure bliss. My motivation to work diligently has actually increased. Oh, the freedom of trusting that all will work out according to a sovereign plan, that I have the ability to switch majors, that my destiny will not and should not be determined by a sixteen year old idealist who does not yet understand how life works. 

But she is learning.

“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.” Another beautiful quote in Dead Poets Society. Maybe I don’t live in the woods yet. I still reside in my head, in the constant buzz of the impending future and its implications and existential questions. But it has become my goal to venture into the woods, to acquaint myself with the fauna and flora and breathe in the dreams that seep through the bark of ancient trees.

On your deathbed, you will reminisce on your life by recalling memories. People. Experiences. Moments. Take a look around the next time you step outside. And I mean really look. Open your eyes and see how much beauty and grace lies within the everyday occurrences, the spontaneous decisions, the world right in front of you. 

“Seize the day. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold and die.”

Thank you, Mr. Keating, for helping me realize that life is more than a system, that the universe is more than something to figure out, that time is relative. That there is value in losing myself in the woods without a map, without a compass, without a particular destination. Perhaps navigating life well sometimes entails forgoing the navigational tools and letting yourself find your way on your own. Wandering through the woods. Living.