There’s a school project that has been inducing yawns, and other, more visceral responses, from boys and girls for longer than I can recall.

It involves writing your own epitaph, and often includes advice such as this oft-regurgitated gem: live each day as if it could be your last.

The sentiment, of course, is commendable: that we should approach each day of our existence as if we were–and alas we are–on borrowed time, and make the most of each moment and experience, until the very last. (Dylan Thomas made a similar urging when he advised in verse not to “go quietly into that good night;” Robin Williams did likewise, if more frenetically, with his “carpe diem” admonishments in “The Dead Poets Society.”)

The problem with living each day as if there wasn’t another to follow is that it saps a vital sense of anticipation, which in itself generates energy and vitality, from the equation. Laudable as it may be to wish to die without regrets, I wonder how much good we might each accomplish if we acted in a fashion that we could also live without regrets.

The character ‘Jackie,’ a lovable old rogue, notes in the 1998 Irish indie film, “Waking Ned Divine:” “What a wonderful thing it would be to visit your own funeral. To sit at the front and hear what was said, maybe say a few things yourself. The words that are spoken at a funeral are spoken too late for the man who is dead.”

Indeed. And the man who is dead is past the point of being able to make the rest of his life a beginning instead of an ending.

My pal Alejandro Kalaf–“Chachi” to friends–spends his non-working hours helping the differently-advantaged, whether entering the Smart Ride, or working at a food bank, or donating his time and energies to any of a number of worthwhile organizations. What I didn’t realize until recently is that, all clichés aside, he is really doing this for selfish motives.

“I want to attract friends, business associates, and romantic interests that have the same goals as I do, but I want to bring the kind of energy that reinforces the positive things about me that I want to build upon,” he told me. This is ‘enlightened self-interest’ at its best, a win-win situation, with the “winners” being those who benefit from Chachi’s efforts, and, of course, the man himself, who enjoys the non-fiduciary returns on his investment in others.

Krishan Manners, president of Wilton Manors Main Street (WMMS), is a familiar face to many people, particularly business- and community-minded folks, in the Island City. While you might not be able to recite the many civic accomplishments he has helped facilitate, the fruits of his labors, and those of his colleagues at WMMS, can be seen in the many public works projects that grace and beauty the gayborhood. I know he has bad days, but I would be hard-pressed–and this is no mere platitude–to identify a single time I could not reach out to him for assistance with an answer to a question, or the name of a city official, or just to see a friendly face in this often “Lord of the Flies” world in which we live.

Has anyone ever seen Carl Marzola of Atlantic Properties International when he wasn’t wearing a smile that could light up a city? I have started a “change jar” so I can drop a quarter into it for every smile of Carl’s that “I catch” from him (whether he gets a cut of that change remains to be seen).

My intention is not to embarrass any of these terrific guys in any way, but they are among the people I am proud to know who are living and acting as if each day is their first, with a joy and vitality that is catching, if we will only allow ourselves to be caught. “The words that are spoken at a funeral are spoken too late for the man who is dead.” Here’s to living the first day of the rest of your life each and every day.

Cliff Dunn

 
CLIFF?DUNN is the Editor of the Florida Agenda. He can be reached at Editor@FloridaAgenda.com