In a world of economic chaos and disruption, it’s important to remember: nothing is permanent
A good friend of mine gave me a piece of wisdom a few years ago, and it’s always stuck with me.
“Everyone has a last day,” she said. I was on the cusp of resigning from my corporate job – a role I had held for nearly 16 years – and was feeling apprehensive. My friend happened to be the Board Chair of the company, and her words gave me comfort and confidence that I was making the right decision.
Everyone has a last day. And everything has a last day, too.
Earlier this year, the Hudson’s Bay Company announced it was closing. A 355-year old company could no longer compete. It’s a reminder that every business will eventually be gone – either bought up, sold off, or simply shutting its doors. While it seems hard to fathom, even tech giants like Apple, Meta and Microsoft will eventually be relegated to the history books.
Nations are no different, and here’s where it starts to get emotional. Since the dawn of homosapiens roaming the earth, warring over territory and resources, the global map of national boundaries and identities has never stopped morphing. It’s silly to imagine that we’ve reached a point today where all nationstates are eternal.
Tragically, Ukraine may cease to exist in its current state, if Putin and Trump have their way. Greenland may be gone if Trump invades it. Canada, too. Even the mighty United States of America will one day be gone – or at least dramatically altered – given the seeds of division that are being cultivating.
Even if Greenland, Ukraine and the United States muddle through these dark days, it’s ridiculous to think that these nations – an idea that exists only in the minds of humans – will be around forever.
Things of the physical world such as buildings, land masses and mountain ranges will also one day be gone, although most of these will easily outlive us. Take the Roman Colosseum: it’s still around after two millennia, but its purpose is gone. Once a gladiator spectator venue, it’s now a tourist trap.
Closest to our hearts, of course, is our own human mortality. Each of us will one day breath a last breath. It may seem morbid to contemplate, but why should it be? It’s inevitable. We will die, and so will everyone around us. And in only a few decades after we check out, there will be no one who can say they remember us personally.
Memento mori – a Latin phrase meaning “remember you must die” – is captured by stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius. He wrote: “It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”
Of course it’s natural and correct for humans to grieve, especially at the passing of loved ones. What monster wouldn’t? We also grieve the death of non-human things we love. Canadians are expressing a lot of sadness at the end of The Bay. How many of us have ever had to say good-bye to a pet? I was surprisingly emotional at the series finale of Schitt’s Creek.
All beloved things – from dogs to mighty nations, and corporate giants to TV shows – will come to an end. Grief is part of that. But by considering the impermanence of everything around us, things start to feel easier. Even liberating.
Three take-away lessons:
- For business owners and employees, hold on to your companies and jobs lightly. A recession is likely coming that will wipe out thousands of jobs. Businesses will go bankrupt. People will lose savings. But through this, remember that you are so much more than that job, that company, or that TFSA account. We will get through it.
- While we accept the impermanence of things, we are also compelled to preserve the things we love. To the extent that efforts lie within our power, we have a responsibility to fight for our nations (elbows up, Canada!).
- When “the last day” comes for anything in our lives – a job, a tech start-up, a loved one – remember that grief is a cruel friend. Cruel for the pain it brings, but also a friend. Grief is the only emotion that reminds us: we have loved, and have been loved.
