I remember being very impressed (as a disillusioned philosophy student, lol) in finding Nietzsche’s “Human All Too Human” 399 very apt: “That maturity is reached is manifested in the fact that one no longer goes to where the rarest roses of knowledge grow among the thorniest hedgerows but is satisfied with the field and meadow because life is too short for the rare and extraordinary.”  I’m not melancholy like that any more, lol, but I found it striking that such a penetrating tragic insight on Life was revealed as a stance toward death (life is short).  I find Heidegger compelling on the meaning of life as the radical freedom of choice on the spectrum of the stance we take toward death:  At one pole of the spectrum is “carpe diem” (“seize the day”) as a call to indulge in life’s joys despite death, and on the other pole “memento mori” as a warning to transcend or forgo those joys in light of it, forming a stance toward death spectrum from (i) hedonistic engagement to (ii) contemplative detachment.

“Carpe diem” is a Latin aphorism originating from the Roman poet Horace’s Odes (Book 1, Ode 11, written around 23 BCE), where it appears in the line “carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero,” translating to “seize the day, putting as little trust as possible in the next [day]” or more literally “pluck the day [as it is ripe].”

In the context of ancient philosophy, it reflects an Epicurean-influenced perspective, urging people to embrace and enjoy the present moment—through simple pleasures, sensory experiences, and mindfulness—because life is fleeting and the future uncertain.

Horace’s message ties directly to an awareness of mortality: by recognizing that death could come at any time, one should not delay gratification or waste time on futile worries about tomorrow, but instead “harvest” the opportunities and joys available right now, much like picking ripe fruit before it spoils. We live our life “as though” the next moment won’t be cut off, though it clearly could. There is an inauthentic disposition toward death which is the everyday way of things, and an authentic one where our being-toward-death is a conscious decision.

As a stance toward death, “carpe diem” represents one end of a philosophical spectrum: an empowering, affirmative response that uses the inevitability of death as motivation to live fully and savor earthly experiences in the here and now, often aligned with hedonistic or Epicurean traditions. Its opposite on this spectrum is “memento mori,” Latin for “remember (that you have) to die,” which originated in classical antiquity among philosophers like Plato (who saw philosophy as preparation for death), Democritus (who contemplated mortality in solitude), and Stoics such as Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius (who advocated meditating on death to appreciate life’s transience and avoid overattachment).

This phrase embodies a more humbling, reflective, and often ascetic approach: by constantly reminding oneself of death’s certainty, one detaches from worldly pleasures, focuses on virtue, moral preparation, or the afterlife (especially in later Christian interpretations), and resists the fleeting temptations that “carpe diem” encourages embracing. While the two concepts were originally more aligned in antiquity—both using mortality as a prompt for mindful living—they evolved to be seen as contrasting: “carpe diem” as a call to indulge in life’s joys despite death, and “memento mori” as a warning to transcend or forgo those joys in light of it, forming a spectrum from hedonistic engagement to contemplative detachment.

We see the bible identifying the meaning of life with a stance toward death that if the dead are not raised, we might as well be gluttons and drunks for tomorrow we die. This is part of the reason Jesus’ resurrection is so important because it is seen as proof the dead are raised. The older parts of the bible don’t see an afterlife, but that we live on through our male children.