1.0Nnaemeka Huberthttps://hubertnnaemeka.com/frhuberteckzee14@gmail.comhttps://hubertnnaemeka.com/fr/author/nnaemeka/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="f5DrH1debs"><a href="https://hubertnnaemeka.com/fr/festina-lente-momento-mori/">Festina Lente / Momento Mori</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://hubertnnaemeka.com/fr/festina-lente-momento-mori/embed/#?secret=f5DrH1debs" width="600" height="338" title="« Festina Lente / Momento Mori » — Nnaemeka Hubert" data-secret="f5DrH1debs" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script> /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://hubertnnaemeka.com/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js </script>https://hubertnnaemeka.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/IMG_9055-scaled.jpeg19202560  About two weeks ago, I found myself at a special kind of event—a film premiere, but not the usual red-carpet spectacle. This one was for Festina Lente, an art-history documentary directed by Dr. Roy Yu. The film revolves around the age-old paradox of “making haste slowly,” a principle Roy describes as “the balance between swift action and thoughtful reflection.” As the lights dimmed and the documentary unfolded, I couldn’t help but sit with that tension: moving forward, yet not rushing; acting decisively, yet with intention.     Fast-forward a few days later. I’m doom-scrolling on Twitter (now X)—as one does—when I stumble upon a video by Salako Ayomide, better known as “Uncle Ayo.” In the video, he talks about journaling and tracking his daily activities as a way to grow, refine his routines, and improve his efficiency. But something on his tracking sheet jumped out at me: “Memento Mori.” Thankfully, someone in the comments asked the exact question forming in my mind—what did he mean by that, and why track it? His explanation was simple yet profound: every day, he commits to performing an act of kindness while keeping the brevity of life in mind. For him, remembering mortality isn’t morbid—it’s motivating. It anchors him in presence, purpose, and impact.     At this point, you’re probably wondering the same question that struck me: What do these two ideas—Festina Lente and Memento Mori—have in common? How do they intersect? Permit me to harmonize these two philosophies in the hope that the full picture becomes clear.   This is how I see it; we live in a world that glorifies speed, productivity, and constant motion. The faster you move, the more you feel you’re accomplishing—at least that’s the illusion. Yet, the more we accelerate, the more life itself starts to blur, becoming one long and unmemorable rush.This is where two ancient maxims quietly challenge our modern frenzy:   Festina lente — Make haste slowly.
 Memento mori — Remember that you will die.   At first glance, they sound contradictory. Shouldn’t the awareness of death push us to hurry, not slow down? And how can one “move fast” and “slow down” at the same time? A closer look perhaps could reveal how the intersection of these two philosophies provides a blueprint for a meaningful life.   On one hand, Festina Lente calls us to “Make haste slowly”. It does not ask us to abandon ambition. Instead, it invites us to move with intention, to pursue our goals energetically but without the recklessness that often accompanies speed. It’s the difference between rushing through tasks vs. finishing what actually matters, reacting impulsively vs. responding wisely, being busy vs. being effective. This philosophy asserts that progress made thoughtfully is progress that lasts.     On the other hand, Memento Mori reminds us that we must die. While it is understandably understood by many as dark or gloomy, the Stoics see this reminder of the brevity of life and the inevitability of death as an invitation to live fully. To remember death is not to fear it. It is to allow it to sharpen your appreciation of life. When we acknowledge that our days are limited, certain things fall into perspective. Trivial annoyances lose their grip, relationships feel more precious, our values come into focus and procrastination becomes harder to justify. Mortality gives urgency—but not the chaotic urgency of panic. Instead, it offers the steady urgency of purpose.     Where the Two Philosophies Meet   Together, these two ancient philosophies weave a profound truth. One reminds us that time is limited; the other reminds us not to waste it through haste. Their intersection teaches us to act today—but act wisely, to move with purpose, not pressure, to seek depth, not merely speed and perhaps to let the awareness of death shape a life of intention. Meaningful living is not about stretching time, but about inhabiting it. To “make haste slowly” in an age of relentless speed is an act of quiet rebellion. To “remember death” in a world that mostly pretends it doesn’t exist or at least treats it as a taboo is an act of clarity. Together, these two ancient principles give us permission—and power—to live lives that feel grounded, intentional, and profoundly alive.   Festina lente, memento mori. Move wisely, live fully.