Love Life by Choosing Action Over Delay
Created at: August 10, 2025
If you love life, do not squander it; act. — Sappho
Sappho’s Imperative in a Fragmented Voice
Sappho of Lesbos (c. 630–570 BC) sang of desire, friendship, and time with a clarity that still presses on the present. The charge “do not squander it; act” captures the moral of her lyric world: feelings are not ends in themselves, but sparks for movement. Her surviving fragments are brief not only because history tore them, but because lyric speech favors the immediate—an address, a decision, a gesture. To love life, in her register, is to translate pulse into practice before it cools.
Seizing Kairos, Not Worshiping Chronos
To ground this urgency, Greek thought distinguished chronos (clock-time) from kairos (the opportune moment). Sappho’s so‑called Tithonus poem, fragment 58, laments the quickening of age—knees that were once nimble now heavy—reminding us that chronos will not negotiate. Yet within that flow, kairos opens windows for choice. Acting becomes the art of recognizing those openings and stepping through them while they exist. Thus, not squandering life means noticing the ripeness of a moment and answering it with deed rather than delay.
Flourishing as Activity, Not Possession
From this temporal lens, ancient ethics reframes happiness. Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics I.7 describes eudaimonia as an energeia—an ongoing activity in accordance with virtue—rather than a thing one owns. Love of life, then, is less a mood and more a habit of acting well: speaking truth when it costs, practicing a craft, sharing a meal, showing up. By insisting on action, the aphorism aligns with Aristotle’s claim that we become just by doing just acts, courageous by doing courageous acts.
Desire That Chooses—Sappho’s Lesson
Building on that ethical core, Sappho’s fragment 16 declares that the most beautiful thing is not armies but “whatever one loves,” and she names Anactoria. Desire clarifies priorities; action commits to them. This dovetails with Epictetus’s Enchiridion 1, which urges focus on what lies within our control—our judgments and efforts. Together they argue that loving life means selecting what matters and enacting it, accepting trade‑offs instead of waiting for a path without loss.
From Intention to Implementation
Moreover, modern research underlines how to bridge the gap between care and deed. Peter Gollwitzer (1999) shows that implementation intentions—if‑then plans like “If it is 7 a.m., then I walk 10 minutes”—dramatically increase follow‑through. Piers Steel (2007) explains procrastination via temporal discounting: we overvalue the comfort of now and undervalue future gains. Naming a cue and a concrete next step shrinks that gap. In this light, action is not frantic busyness; it is engineered follow‑through on what we already claim to love.
Courage Over Perfection
Even so, acting wisely often means acting before conditions feel ideal. The adage that “perfect is the enemy of good” echoes Heraclitus’s insight that you cannot step into the same river twice: time’s current erases perfect setups. Drafts, pilots, and first attempts honor life by learning in motion. When we replace flawless plans with small, reversible moves, we trade brittle intention for resilient progress and discover that momentum clarifies more than speculation ever could.
Acting With and For Others
Finally, because Sappho sang within a circle, her imperative carries a communal note. Lyric performance on Lesbos was social; the “I” of the poem gathered a “we.” Acting, then, includes care that circulates—writing the difficult apology, mentoring a novice, showing up for a neighbor. Love of life scales outward: it resists squandering not only minutes but relationships. When initiative becomes service, the private joy of aliveness matures into shared flourishing.