“Die slowly
He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience,
dies slowly.
He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones "it’s" rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yawn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
dies slowly.
He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
die slowly.
He who does not travel, who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself,
she who does not find grace in herself,
dies slowly.
He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops,
dies slowly.
He or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know, he or she who don't reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.
Let's try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.
Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.”
― Martha Medeiros
This is a powerful poem, but its message is a simple one – live your life for yourself and no-one else.
I was drawn to her words. I wanted to share her words with my readers. Yes, we also need to understand, live our life and on our own terms. And don’t just talk about it.
Because that’s not really living.
I don't think this is about living for oneself and no one else. It's about not becoming a slave to the 9-5 grind, not looking out the windows, try stuff and become a better person, and a better impact in this short life.
No one is an island. Whoever lives only for himself or herself, is doomed to a life of loneliness - worse than death.
Yes, no one is an island and yes, there are so many people out there who live for themselves.
I have lived amongst people who have struggled to think outside the box, who haven't learned new things, living a blinkered life, being afraid to give things a go.
This poem reminds me very much of those people. Just being afraid to 'live.' I do agree that anyone who thinks only of themselves, will be doomed to a singular life, when others turn their backs.
While living a life for yourself can be lonely, I think death is worse. There is no coming back from death, but you can change how you live your life.