The new year begins now
In the early 1900s, a popular Parisian newspaper had a habit of dreaming up big questions and asking celebrities to chime in.
One question asked, “What do you think would be the ideal education to give your daughter?” Another asked, “Do you have any recommendations for improving traffic congestion in Paris?”
In the summer of 1922, the paper put out a big question:
An American scientist announces that the world will end, or at least that such a huge part of the continent will be destroyed, and in such a sudden way, that death will be the certain fate of hundreds of millions of people. If this prediction were confirmed, what do you think would be its effects on people between the time when they acquired the aforementioned certainty and the moment of cataclysm? Finally, as far as you’re concerned, what would you do in the last few hours?
The last person to send their reply was Marcel Proust — author of the monumental work In Search of Lost Time. His response is like a sword of wisdom, cutting through all lies, stories, and excuses we have for not living a wonderful life.
This Is Proust Typing
I think that life would suddenly seem wonderful to us if we were threatened to die as you say. Just think of how many projects, travels, love affairs, studies, it—our life—hides from us, made invisible by our laziness which, certain of a future delays them occasionally.
But let all this threaten to become impossible forever, how beautiful it would become again! Ah! If only the cataclysm doesn’t happen this time, we won’t miss visiting the new galleries of the Louvre, throwing ourselves at the feet of Miss X, making a trip to India.
The cataclysm doesn’t happen, we don’t do any of it, because we find ourselves back in the heart of normal life, where negligence deadens desire. And yet we shouldn’t have needed the cataclysm to love life today. It would have been enough to think that we are humans, and that death may come this evening.
Proust reminds us to ask ourselves real questions and get our priorities straight.
In today’s world, our mortality is a great source of fear when, truly, it should be the reason behind our joy, the fuel to our fire.
As this year nears its end, I encourage you to reflect on the projects, travels, love affairs, and studies “made invisible by your laziness,” and I invite you to shine a light on them and pursue them a reality like your life depends on it — because it does.
Since I graduated college — almost a decade ago — I’ve struggled to maintain a daily meditation practice. This month I’m challenging myself to meditate for 30 days straight as a way to build momentum as we head into the new year. If meditation (or prayer) is a habit you also want to cultivate, I invite you to join me over the next 30 days. And if you want to build a different habit, I say make a plan, start now, and step into 2025 with a mountain of evidence proving how badass you are.