We all have two lives: The true, the one we dreamed of in childhood And go on dreaming of as adults in a substratum of mist; the false, the one we love when we live with others, the practical, the useful, the one we end up by being put in a coffin.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the dual existence we all face: the ideal life we aspire to and the practical life we lead.
Fernando Pessoa's quote emphasizes the contrast between our idealized dreams (the true life) and the societal roles we fulfill (the false life). It suggests that while we hold on to our childhood dreams, reality often forces us to navigate through a 'false' existence determined by external expectations and practicality, ultimately leading to a life that may feel constraining or unfulfilling.
In practice
In a motivational speech about pursuing aspirations, one might quote this to encourage the audience to chase their dreams.
I have at this moment so many fundamental thoughts, so many truly metaphysical things to say, that I suddenly get tired and decide not to write any more, not to think any more, but to allow the fever of speaking to make me sleepy, and with my eyes closed, like a cat, I play with everything I could have said.
It's been months since I last wrote. I've lived in a state of mental slumber, leading the life of someone else. I've felt, very often, a vicarious happiness. I haven't existed. I've been someone else. I've lived without thinking.
I'm a man for whom the outside world is an inner Reality.
My dreams are a stupid refuge, like an umbrella against a thunderbolt.
The chill of what I won't feel gnaws at my present heart.
Friends: not one. Just a few acquaintances who imagine they feel something for me and who might be sorry if a train ran over me and the funeral was on a rainy day.
To be convinced in our hearts that we have forgiveness of sins and peace with God by grace alone is the hardest thing.
When there are thoughts, it is distraction: when there are no thoughts, it is meditation.
In the space which thought creates around itself there is no love. This space divides man from man, and in it is all the becoming, the battle of life, the agony and fear. Meditation is the ending of this space, the ending of the me.
He who is firm in will molds the world to himself.
Man... knows only when he is satisfied and when he suffers, and only his sufferings and his satisfactions instruct him concerning himself, teach him what to seek and what to avoid. For the rest, man is a confused creature; he knows not whence he comes or whither he goes, he knows little of the world, and above all, he knows little of himself.
The strange thing about Africa is how past, present and future come together in a kind of rough jazz, if you like.
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