Views, not viewers, are everywhere
"Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm. Philosophies fall away like sand, creeds follow one another, but what is beautiful is a joy for all seasons, a possession for all eternity"
It is this season. In some countries, they call it “cucumber season,” while others refer to it as “basse saison” or “silly season” in the northern hemisphere. Everything gets a little “décontracté,” a bit more relaxed, as the pace slows down. Even the workers in their offices find themselves staring at pencils engraved with the name of a hotel from their last holiday, lost in daydreams of recent getaways. Many platforms feel like ghost towns for about a month or so. And this is how it should be. After all, who gives attention to the latest tech gadgets—glasses that turn speech into text or devices that let you watch a film while lying on your sofa—when we’re surrounded by the poetry of nature in full summer bloom?
Where did everyone go? Why have technology sales taken a dive?
In a world that often demands our constant attachment to technology, we’re encouraged to create, consume, and remain tethered to our screens, preferably within four walls. This might be in a corporate environment where the entire hierarchy revolves around bronze, silver, and gold statuses, much like the awards we received in primary school — “GOLD attendance certificate” evolving into “GOLDEN circle of friends.” And then, there are the marble floors of massive shopping malls, offering an “inclusive” experience of “lèche-vitrine” (window shopping) where people stroll, enjoying the artificially cooled air, savouring a taste of luxury before returning home to envy pop stars and their wealth on the latest golden phone.
But what do we gain from all this? The endless exploration, the pursuit of status, and the accumulation of things? Is it truly satisfying, or does it leave us yearning for something more? T.S. Eliot, in his profound wisdom, captured this paradox beautifully:
"We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time."
Doesn’t the summer also remind us that the journey, with all its twists and turns, often brings us back to the beginning—our true selves, our roots, and what genuinely matters?
Let us all be reminded of what truly matters through a poem:
WHAT WILL MATTER by Michael Josephson
Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.
There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours, or days.
All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else.
Your wealth, fame, and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.
It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations, and jealousies will finally disappear.
So, too, your hopes, ambitions, plans, and to-do lists will expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.
It won’t matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.
It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.
So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?
What will matter is not what you bought but what you built; not what you got but what you gave.
What will matter is not your success but your significance.
What will matter is not what you learned but what you taught.
What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage,
or sacrifice that enriched, empowered, or encouraged others to emulate your example.
What will matter is not your competence but your character.
What will matter is not how many people you knew but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone.
What will matter is not your memories but the memories of those who loved you.
What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom, and for what.
Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.
It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice.
Choose to live a life that matters.
