Embracing Ambiguity

What does Cras Semper Est mean? There's always tomorrow? Tomorrow always comes? Tomorrow is always there?

I don't really read Latin that well, but that shared experience is one of the beauties of saying something in a language with no native speakers. Even in modern language a single phrase, or even a single word, can take on many different meanings... sometimes simultaneously to the same reader.

Take "love", for instance. What does it mean to you when someone says "I love you"? Depending on your history and perception of the personality of the person saying it, there is a very wide range of meaning there. Coming from an outgoing friend it could just be a friendly acknowledgement that you're someone they generally care about. Love is entirely different between parents, children, siblings, and other family than it is between romantic partners. Even between two people in a long relationship that phrase takes on different meanings over time. The passions of new love imply a totally different message than the breath of relief of having an ally you've shared decades with.

So, what do ambiguous statements like that mean?

Whatever you want them to mean.

As the speaker/writer we might know what message(s) we're trying to send with them. But, as the reader/listener we stir our contextual knowledge, mood, hopes, and fears into a soup of uncertainty and ultimately just go with our best guess. Hearing the same message, delivered in the same tone, by the same person can be interpreted wildly differently if it hits as you were trying to go to sleep, when you first wake up, while you were trying to focus on work, or if you were eagerly hanging on their every word. Often, these ambiguous statements are uttered in trust that the receiver will interpret them in good faith and receive a message similar to what was intended.

So, Cras Semper Est.

Sometimes it means that I can procrastinate and do a task later because I'll have time tomorrow. Occasionally it means that I can afford to try now, and screw it up, because tomorrow brings a new day and a new chance to do it over again. On days with immense, looming pressure it reminds me that nothing I do can stop the advance of time and that I need to finish today's tasks before tomorrow gets here. In times of dread & despair it can be a reminder that nothing I do stops tomorrow from arriving, and with it all the other things I can't control.

It means all of them, and none of them. Letters, essays, text messages, emails - they're all time capsules that ultimately mean something different than the original as the context slips from memory.

So, that's what this is. A collection of time capsules from my brain, where original meanings may wither and die while new ones emerge as looked at through the lenses of tomorrow. I trust that you'll use good faith when interpreting for yourself.