Some thoughts on Mementos
Some time ago, I started an exercise of viewing life through three lenses, reflecting upon them whenever possible:
Memento vivere — on the importance of learning how to live, of understanding and accepting that life is fleeting, and that this impermanence grants us the opportunity to experiment, make mistakes, and learn. That loving the journey is the way to stay in the flow, to live each day understanding and accepting the weight of my decisions, and to be at peace with their consequences.
Memento amare — on living life with love: love for my wife, love for my friends and peers, love for my parents, and above all, love for myself—for my flaws even more than for my virtues. Love for my consciousness, which I call my "co-pilot," who stays with me through good days and bad, and who is, in the first and final instance, my eternal inner companion.
Memento mori — learning to respect and be grateful for the chance to be let go, to depart, and to finish what I started. Being grateful for the end and for death itself—for the unique gift of allowing me to experience the world in stages, for giving me a finite time of delight, for granting me the gift of creating meaning, and, in the end, thanking its arrival and departing hand-in-hand, out of respect for having waited patiently for me until that singular moment.
And finally, being grateful for the opportunity to understand and experience these mementos.