Should I stay or should I go? That Clash song set the existential dilemma to music with off-key vocals. The pain in the song centers around a man whose lover is indecisive about their future. The singer is begging to be told what to do: stay or go! We all want to be told what to do. That’s why life coaches will always have a market. Knowing what to do next is very hard.
Why is it so hard? Because there are two forces at odds: the present and the future.
Since the days when those Greek life coaches called the Stoics said stuff like, “carpe diem” we’ve been pressured to live each moment like it’s all we have. But how do we seize the day, exactly? Because if I’m truly seizing the day, it’s doubtful I’d spend as much time as I do on things I’d rather not be doing.
The call to “make each moment matter” forces a condition that I seldom see discussed: should I live each day like it’s my first or my last? Because those are painfully different propositions and the harsh light of day between them is where we’re stuck.
If I knew today was my last day on Earth, I’d be writing a very different note to you. I’d skip work, eat cake for breakfast, lie in bed all day, gaze adoringly at my wife until she told me to stop, weep, and go over my last will and testament.
But, as far as I can tell, today is like any other, so I’ll do none of those except for gazing adoringly at my wife until she tells me to stop. And maybe weep. Instead of the cake for breakfast I had oatmeal. I’ll also be doing a few things that I do not want to do at all in the service of a better tomorrow: work, exercise, laundry, etc.
Live each day like it’s your last is terrible advice unless it’s actually your last day. Believe me, I’ve tried. If you truly live like there’s no tomorrow you exist in a perpetual hangover, literally or figuratively. Better to live each day like it’s your first and plan for the future, right? Not so fast. That can also be a trap.
We all know the cautionary tale of the worker who toiled for decades and then dropped dead the day after retirement. Gratification deferred until death sounds like a lot of missed opportunities to seize the day, does it not?
“So, Free Life Coach, what do I do?” Two things, friends:
1. I’ve created a flawed framework. It’s not one or the other, it’s both, at the same time. That’s the tension you feel. We all feel it. The solution when dealing with two extremes like this is usually moderation. Back to those Greek life coaches: moderation in all things. Except for moderation. Take that to the extreme!
What does that look like? It looks like mixing what keeps you connected to joy today and sacrificing some of it in the service of a better tomorrow. Season the bliss with misery in a just right mixture of low-level pain. Or, um, dilute the misery with fun: just whistle while you work! It won’t take long when there’s a song to help you set the pace.
Life is lived in the liminal space between staying and going.
It’s a constant give and take and there is no winning, there is only pushing ahead. This is the tension of being alive. Move toward joy, but not at the expense of your future. Move toward the future, but not last the expense of your joy. It’s a moving target and it’s impossible to get entirely right, which is why life coaches charge you money. We all want this solved. Come on and let me knowwww. But there is no perfect solution. There’s only a personal journey that involves reflection, sacrifice, surrender, and sometimes, joy.
2. Try calling a friend and asking how they are and then listen carefully to the answer. Caring about someone else can sometimes be a solution to feeling confused about life. Ignoring the question entirely by caring about someone else is fair play.
I hope that helped! One thing that does bring me joy is writing to you, dear readers. Now it’s time to do the laundry.
Stuck with you in the liferaft and also wondering what to do next,
I am, until I’m not,
Sean Sakamoto