The tabby cat known as Spartacus, lying on a salmon colored towel.

A Fleeting Life And An Aspiration for My Time Of Dying

The tabby cat known as Spartacus, lying on a salmon colored towel.
Spartacus (not dead, just resting)

Life is fleeting, as a furball of love named Spartacus recently reminded me. His name was Spartacus. He came to fill a void left by another good cat we once had and was honestly the best cat we’ve ever had.

This seemingly out-of-place post about life is here because I’ve been pondering how to write about life and general and general musings. It’s also the result of a gradual process whereby I’m consolidating everything I do. With that said, allow me to continue.

When someone asks what you did yesterday, do you really want to say “nothing?” This question refers to making the most of each day. As Ryan Holiday says in The Daily Stoic, we only have one shot at today and only 24 hours to take it.

In his final days, Spartacus faced the ups and downs that come with age, unwelcome disease, and the inevitable end of consciousness. He managed to do all the things he needed to do, day by day and hour by hour. His final days were filled with ups and downs as he coped with what appeared to be excruciating discomfort. It was pretty impressive to watch. Spartacus didn’t complain, only doing what was needed to make it through each day.

I held Spartacus in his final moments of life in our back garden. In those somber moments, I noticed the moon shining in the afternoon sky. The moon has since been a reminder of sweet Spartacus and an aspiration I have for myself. I hope and aspire for my final moments to unfold in a state of peace and grace. But how will they unfold? The truth is that I won’t know until I know.