Although I've mentioned it several times, working on writing for this section always strikes me as both funny and ironic. I don't consider myself a history enthusiast, or at least I didn't think so, since history classes and books have always seemed dull. However, this is partly a placebo effect ingrained in us from early schooling.
Subjects like math, science, and history are often stigmatized. For example, little kids are told, "If you misbehave, you'll get a shot." In many cases, this just creates irrational fear. The same happens with studying history: We're taught it's a rigorous discipline that requires us to memorize dates and facts regardless of the context behind them. This simplistic view only contributes to an emotional disconnect with the past.
Therefore, I constantly try to "tropicalize history," making it more digestible and understandable. After all, there are people who can read endless threads on X (formerly Twitter) with ease but struggle to focus on a history book. The key here is storytelling: history must be told in a way that connects to human emotions, not just cold data. It needs to be humanized so it's accessible, relevant, and, above all, comprehensible.
History should be understood, not force-fed. George Santayana's famous quote, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” or its more common version, "Those who don't know history are condemned to repeat it," doesn't mean that simply knowing an event will prevent it from happening again. What truly matters is understanding the context that led to that event.
It's like at work: it's one thing to know no one wants to collaborate with Andrea, which leads to thinking Andrea is being mistreated, but it's another to understand the reason behind it. Suppose we find out Andrea is known for taking credit for her colleagues' work while treating them condescendingly. In that case, we then understand the real root of the issue, allowing us to avoid jumping to conclusions and, instead, approach the situation with more precise judgment.
Curiously, this is what happens with history in general. Often, we capture only a fragment of an event without knowing the whole picture. What's the result of this? A bunch of people who know clichés but understand little to nothing about them. It's like when the concept "Memento mori" – "Remember that you will die" – so what? It's like saying, "Remember, you breathe." It's something inevitable, but recognizing it or not changes absolutely nothing.
This is how an irrational fear of death is generated, and a narrative is built that pits life and death as opposing forces. But what if they are one instead of being two separate forces? According to Ostberg and Britannica (2025), "Memento mori" is a Latin phrase often found in art and spirituality. It's interpreted as a reminder of our mortality, with its first appearance in Stoic traditions. Rather than attempting to instill fear of the inevitable end, the phrase seeks to make us aware of how fleeting and fragile we are.
While there are various "schools" or interpretations of Stoicism, one of the purest forms holds that everything is composed of reason and coherence, known as "logos," which is the logic that governs the universe and each individual. This vision of Stoicism, also called "fate," leads us to understand that our "free will" or "will" are just ways of dealing with or making decisions in the face of our inevitable destiny (Aurelius, 2003).
Being Stoic is the ability to reason, though this is not the same as what is taught in Roman Stoicism, which views a Stoic as a person indifferent to both fortune and misfortune in life. For practical purposes, we will use the Stoic concept that Marcus Aurelius laid out in his Meditations, as his approach seeks to answer ethically and metaphysically questions such as: What is the meaning of life? How should we live? How do we know if the way we live is correct? Or, more generally, how do we balance life's successes and failures? (Aurelius, 2003).
"Memento mori" has become so cliché that it has lost much of its essence over time. Many people interpret it as a reminder that life is lived only once and that they should make the most of it. However, this approach only creates an insatiable void, making people associate freedom with hedonism. This misunderstanding undermines the true meaning of the phrase.
The concept of "Memento mori" should be understood from a deeper perspective: society is not a collection of isolated individuals but one single organism. Everything we do, everything we decide, affects others and, in turn, affects ourselves. In this sense, "Memento mori" represents the "inner balance," a reminder that our decisions should be made with awareness and authenticity. Beyond being a reminder that "life is lived only once," it should be a call to introspection, to reflect on authenticity and connection with others.
Instead of seeing "Memento mori" as a proclamation of battle against the world, we should interpret it as a confrontation with ourselves. Imagine that, in an instant, you knew you were going to die. Would you be satisfied with what you've done in life? Ultimately, it's not about how much money we make, how many trips we take, or how many accolades we receive. What really matters is how genuine we are with others and, therefore, with ourselves. Were we truly ourselves, or were we subjected to the pressure of "The Monarchs of the Shadows?"
Although this writing has taken a tone that could fit into the "Warrior in a Garden” section, it is placed under "Sagas and Tales." This is because we seek to understand the context of the "Memento mori" story in a way that prevents us from repeating modern history, where we adopt life slogans without truly understanding them. As Musashi said in his precept: "You can abandon your body, but never your honor." In this sense, the meaning of "Memento mori" invites us to reflect on how we live and what legacy we will leave behind.
Satoricha ~
References
Aurelius, M. (2003). Meditations (G. Hays, Trans.). Random House Publishing Group.
Ostberg, R., & Britannica. (2025, 01 31). Memento Mori. Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/topic/memento-mori
Santayana, G. (1905). The Life of Reason: The Phases of Human Progress. C. Scribner's Sons.