Memento Tempore Finietur

Remember this season will end.

My most recent book came out a couple of weeks ago. The Renewing: a season of action, contemplation, and transformation. It was a look back at my experience last summer on a summer renewal opportunity provided by the Lilly Teacher Creativity Fellowship. I traveled west to various locations seeking spiritual peace and stillness. This summer, I have tried to recreate some of those experiences. Not in travel, but in mindset. I have dedicated time to prayer and to writing every day. It has been another season of renewal.

I've adopted the practice of beginning my daily journal writings by writing, "memento mori" at the top of the page. Remember death. Remembering that life is brief and beautiful and something that deserves our attention and appreciation. I don't look at my limited days as something to fear, but rather as a reminder that each day is precious and to be wasted. This summer season has reminded me that seasons do come to an end. Memento tempore finietur. But that is part of the process. Seasons pass and new seasons arrive. Each season is born, then it lives, then it dies. Each season transforms us, helping us grow. And in the passing of one season, we see the birth of a new season.

I suppose the question is how we view these statements of changing seasons and death. Do we look at them with fear and depression or do we look at them with hope and renewal and transformation? I choose the latter. I choose hope. I choose renewal. I choose transformation. I choose to strive for acceptance to accept the things we cannot change with serenity. Richard Rohr says with life comes necessary suffering. That is part of our path. That is required for meaningful transformation. Marcus Borg repeats Jesus’s words that his kingdom and we are not of this world. At least this world as it is. As we transform ourselves, we transform the world around us. Paulo Coelho says that our search for treasure (happiness, our awaiting personal legend) is an encounter with God. So in the waiting is where we are transformed. In this season that will end. This season of living and waiting and choosing.

I am waiting. Always. There is always something that lies ahead. Something that will be on the horizon. I will always be crossing mile markers. At least I should think of them as mile markers and not finish lines. The seasons come and go. One of those seasons is my life here on this earth. I cannot take anything with me but my spirit. I can leave in peace or unrest. I choose joy. I choose hope. I have to choose these things. I have to have the lens that allows me to move forward every day. And as I do so, I can choose to remember. Remember to live (memento vivere) as I remember Tempore Finietur.