Temperance
April 28 2024
The measured life
is no longer one of temperance
as it was back then.
Today, we quantify ourselves;
heart rate
body weight
antioxidants,
counting steps
and adding reps
in a quest to live forever.
Immortality,
once left only to the gods.
While I am laissez faire.
I will postpone death
as long as I can,
but life is for living
not keeping track.
Not of steps
and not the number of words
I’ve written today
nor how many read.
Just many as I need to say
care to cram in my head.
Because it’s impossible to track
all the sentences and paragraphs
language allows.
A poem that never ends,
stanza after stanza
just because it can.
Or has the last word
here and now.
A friend recently wrote this in an email: I seem to be struggling in the water this week. Garmin says my heart rate is unbalanced. Hopefully I'm not getting sick. For a moment, I was confused: Garmin?? Then it twigged, and I realized I shouldn’t have been surprised that she — an exceptionally self-disciplined and fit woman — would have one of these.
But the quantified life doesn’t appeal to me. Even though there’s no doubt my long-winded poetry would benefit from keeping count: setting a strict line count, and keeping to it! (Here, 30. While I set out hoping for at most 10 🙃!)
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